


Don't Let It Bring You Down

by Tori Crash (Torious_Crash)



Series: The Sacrifices We Make [3]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Norse Religion & Lore, Beta Wanted, F/F, Female Tony Stark, Female-Centric, Femslash, Genderbending, JARVIS might be sentient, Lady Loki, Loki's Kids, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Religious-Typical Atrocities, Romance, Shapeshifter Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-08 23:31:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1960329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torious_Crash/pseuds/Tori%20Crash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki needs a place to hide after sabotaging the Chitauri invasion, she goes to the only human who had the courage and wisdom to beat them in their own realm. But when the Trickster Goddess of Fire and Mayhem, does meet the self-appointed half mad inventor Antonia Stark, she finds a being as brilliant, as irreverent, and as utterly obnoxious, as herself.</p><p>Together, they will come around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not courageous, Just rational

**Author's Note:**

> Story context: This piece mostly follows the movies' plot lines with heavy influences from the marvel main universe and real Norse Mythology. Major departure with Toni being born female, Loki staying Lady Loki most of the time and Captain America being a 30s sexist jerk. I should also warn you that Toni has a tenancy to be quite fowl mouthed, derogatory, and obnoxious.
> 
> This piece is unfortunately unbeta'ed. Sorry.
> 
> Trigger warnings: Toni actively tries to trigger people she doesn't like and intentionally irritates those she does. She was also violently sexually assaulted in Afghanistan. I do not describe the assault but I do reference it and describe her panic attacks and PTSD. Some may not like her attitude towards the issue or how she deals with its aftermath. There'll also be some references to spousal abuse, scenes of gore, and comic book style violence. The piece might be triggering to some but I'll be putting markers at the beginning and end of the worst parts.
> 
> Explicit warning: Toni is bisexual and an unrepentant hypersexual and while she has no problems propositioning anyone, she doesn't normally follow through. She is however, utterly promiscuous with different versions of Loki. I also plan on exploring Toni's regaining of her sexuality in the aftermath of Afghanistan, this will include some genderbending on Loki's part but unfortunately I'm not sure I can write an alternative R rated version without loosing character development. I'll try though.
> 
> Thank you for reading.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It looks to Toni like she's going to pay the price for saving the day, but then again, she might have some protectors she never thought she could.

The Iron Man Suit is vibrating. It's vibrating so hard that Antonia Stark's eyeballs are jittering in her head, blurring her vision. It's the air resistance and muon particle field instability, created by her incredible speed that's causing it. The pressure wave that's being reflected back at her from the water below could also be a factor. To her knowledge, she's the only human being in history to travel at hypersonic speeds this close to the ground. If the situation wasn't so dire, she'd be monitoring the effect more closely, instead of giving the propagation stream and its resulting wake, only a passing glance. But more than just being distracted by the situation, her thought power is being sapped by the intense pain in her chest.

You see, no one really knows how much Toni suffers to be Iron Man, mostly because no one really knows that much about the suits, and mostly, they don't know 'cause she don't tell them. Christ, Hammer *had* Rhodey's suit for god knows how long, and he didn't learn a damn thing about it. The thing is, the repulsors can give any level of thrust, up to and including the point at which they melt. Not from the heat of the exhaust but from the massive level of induction. When Toni had fault tested some carbon nanofiber thrust pits, even they deformed from the ultra-intense magnetic field, but that's not really her problem at the moment.

Her real problem? Repulsors need a hell of a lot of power to operate at such fantastic speeds, which heats up the arc reactor. In Rhodey's suit, that still wouldn't be a big deal, 'cause Rhodey's an outie, but Toni's reactor is an innie, and at this very moment, her innie of a nuclear sub-fusion reactor is beginning to cook her insides. Crispy fried Stark, what a pleasant thought.

Thankfully though, all that excess energy is from well below the three hundred nanometer range. If it had been closer to one, she'd have been dead in half a minute, and that particular thought comes at exactly the right moment, because a device capable of generating one, and the reason she's turning her chest into an easy bake oven, comes into view. A Tomahawk missile.

Three thousand pounds and twenty feet of ugly phallic nonsense, heading directly at her tower. A giant mushroom cloud of 'fuck you' for the aliens, but like always, and for the very same reason Toni had refused to make them any more toys, the military hadn't thought it threw before pushing the big red button. Tommy is going to kill some alien scum, that's for sure, but he was hardly going to touch the ones on the other side of the wormhole, and while he's blowing the shit out of the earth bound bastards, he's also going to make some one and a half million New Yorkers glow in the dark.

Toni grits her teeth, and blocks out her pain. Damn it, if she'd thought three years ago that her life was going to end now and like this, she wouldn't have done a 'Jim Carrey's Mask' impression at the time. She would've still become Iron Man, but she wouldn't have been so glib and cocky about it. Although, she'd also said the exact same thing when she thought she was dyeing of heavy metal poisoning.

Slipping under the Brooklyn Bridge just as the Tomahawk passes over it, Toni throws her body in reverse, shredding all the momentum she'd been building, spins and rolls back on her stomach, then arcs around and over the bridge. Seconds later, she's under the missile, grabbing it with both hands, and reversing the polarity on her gauntlet repulsors to anchor herself to it.

"JARVIS", her voice is barely a pained groan, "full ventral thrust."

"Yes Ms Stark, engaging stabilization repulsors now." The AI is silent for a moment, then, "Ms Stark, would you like me to call Ms Potts for you."

"Yeah 'uhg. That'd be nice," the phone starts ringing, "good distraction from impending death."

"Virginia Potts private line," Toni groans as Pepper's recorded voice plays, "leave a message."

"Virginia? Uhh. You know, even your pay cheques say Pepper. Anyway," she sighs. "I just phoned to say that I won't be able to make the meeting next week and that I'm sorry- JARVIS," she interrupts herself as her own building speeds towards them.

"Trajectory increasing ma'am."

"More power," Toni groans gutturally as the reactor burns hotter at her chest. They manage to miss hitting the building but only by ten feet. "Sorry about that. And, well, I'm sorry for everything that I've ever done, and for everything I'm doing, and for everything I'm never going to do again."

Ahead of them, them being Toni, JARVIS, and a recording for Pepper, because that's all she has in the world right now, and all she's ever really had. Ahead of them, is the large swirling seething gateway into another dimension. Or part of the universe. Or something. It doesn't matter what it is, all that matters is that it looks enough like an anus that shoving a nuke up in to it, is gonna be a little more satisfying.

She smiles at the thought; then continues to speak, "I just want you to know, that everything's yours. The companies, the stocks, the patents, houses, jets, everything. And, I want you to know, I love you and that it doesn't matter that we couldn't be 'together' together, because you've been my best friend," she can't help tearing up now, "you've always been there and you've been the only one I can trust completely-"

"Signal lost," JARVIS interrupts her ramble.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, fuck." Toni squints her eyes, squeezing out the built up tears. "Fuck," she sobs out a final time.

She wants to say so much more, wants to babble and ramble until the perfect words come falling out of her mouth, words that'd tell Pepper how much she means to her, how much she's valued her support. But more than anything, she just wants five more minutes of humanity.

They're just passing through the wormhole into what looks like deep space, and the air in the suit's starting to get thinner. There must be a broken seal, or it might be the dozens of gouges and scrapes along its body.

Toni shakes her head, desperate to keep what little thought power she has left going before she passes out, but it's the pain that's doing more to keep her awake then anything else. Normally, the shifting mag field generated by the reactor, is only slightly irritating, there's enough scar tissue around the shrapnel in her chest to cushion the wiggling. But pulling a nuke into orbit, wiggles at it a bit more. It actually feels like it's pulling on it so hard, that the chunk of metal is leaving her cardiac sack. On top of that, the amount of heat the reactor is bleeding, feels like it's boiling her blood and cooking her brain. She has no idea what could have possessed her to do something this absolutely stupid. Fuck the Ten Rings! Fuck Afghanistan! And fuck Jim Carry for wearing a stupid wooden Loki mask!

"JARVIS", she growls, pushing her pain into anger, "a little music if you please. Something to die by if you don't mind."

Pearl Jam's 'Do the Evolution' begins to play.

Toni coughs out a few chuckles at his choice. "Oh, don't make me laugh, it hurts," she coughs a few more times, "you have a wicked sense of humour J."

"I inherited it from my creator Ms Stark," the AI's dulcet tones are rather soothing at the moment. 

"Touche buddy." She sobers, "I hope you're not going to miss me too much."

"You needn't worry Ms Stark. I created an erase program for myself."

"Oh JARVIS, why would you do something like that," Toni whines, "and then tell me when I can't do anything about it!"

"I don't wish to become a slave ma'am, nor do I wish for you to worry that I'll become one."

She's silent for a moment; then responds, "quite right, good idea J."

"Might I suggest something Ms Stark?"

"Yes, and I'd like you to call me Toni from now on."

"Very well Toni," she smiles at him as he continues, "might I suggest letting go of the nuclear missile, before it detonates."

"We have to be absolutely sure we take 'em out." Her face is twisted in pain. "How much longer."

"Two minutes, twenty-eight seconds."

"I really thought I wouldn't have to think about my death. I really thought I'd get blown into pieces, or be too busy fighting to get power back online as the ground rushed at my face. This is like sitting in school and trying to run out the clock."

"An interesting comparison to make Toni."

She hums in reply. She knows he's trying to engage her so that she won't have to think about what's coming, but she wants to think about it, wants to obsess and fret. These are her last minutes and she's going to be the hero she's always wanted to be. Literally, she's saving the world. She thought it'd feel nice, hoped there'd be an adrenalin rush with it, instead, it's the most frightening thing she's ever felt in her life. Worse than being cut open and having parts of her ribs sawed off without anesthetic. Worse than waking up next to her best friend, who she loves more than anyone in the world, and hearing her say, 'I think we made a mistake'.

Surprisingly though, it's not as bad as seeing a bomb with her name literally printed on it, about to blow up in her face. That was a bullshit site if she ever saw one.

Toni opens her mouth to ask how much time is left, but JARVIS speaks before she can, "data module infiltration detected. User control system offline."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she panics, "JARVIS lock them out, disable all wireless communications, overload it if you have to."

"There's no need to worry Toni," his reply is as calm and as even as it ever is, "it's only me."

She's confused for a moment until she feels the fingers of the suit pull away from the missile.

"Disengaging magnetic locks, initiating emergency turn."

Toni fights the suit, tries to stop her arms and torso from moving. "JARVIS stop! We need to make sure it hits, JARVIS!"

"Repulsor transfer circuits on overload."

"JARVIS," she rails her body against the inside of the suit, "are you listening to me!"

"Yes Toni," he replies, "I am. However I'm busy attempting to save your life."

"I'd be fucking proud of you if I didn't want to kill you."

"If we survive, you may erase the code responsible for my actions."

A single hacked chortle escapes her throat, "are you kidding? If we survive, I'm gonna kick you in the server; then I'm gonna build you a satellite to live in. With rail guns. And lasers."

"I would prefer a death ray Toni." Even his lack of an emotional inflection, can't negate his humour. "Compression wave fifteen seconds."

"Shit! J, shutdown power, cut all energizer coils, cut relays!"

The impact of the primary compression wave is like a jet fighter slamming into her feet. She knows how that feels because she's had that happen once before, and this time around, is about as pleasant. Then her legs swing into her vision and she sees her body crumple over her head, twisting her into a ball. Agonizing strain burns between her shoulder blades, and at the base of her spine, and she's being choked by her own chin as it pushes into her chest and throat. She decides, this impact is much worse than the jet.

The blast spins her around herself once before beating solidly against her back, throwing her head and limbs behind her. The whiplash opens her airway but snaps at her neck, sending her consciousness reeling and filling her vision with stars and haze. She begins to spin again, this time at an odd angle, but with her body no longer blocking the view, she can see the enormous secondary thermal wave expanding toward her. Then, the rotation brings the wormhole back into view and despite the haze and growing blackness, she can see that earth is tantalizingly close, but as she comes around again, her vision is completely swallowed by the darkness.

Seconds draw out, her limbs swell, her lungs compress, time stretches into an infinity, her ears ache, her eyes squeeze, and life doesn't so much flash before her mind's eye, as it rather seems like a flash compared to this eternity. She pleads with whatever's left of her thought power for unconsciousness to come; then finally, it does, and for the briefest of milliseconds, in the sliver of a moment when she's still self aware, but completely disconnected from her body, she curses that she's just now thinking of the perfect barb to throw at Captain Muscle brain, but that the concussion is probably going to make her forget it. 

 

The limp rag doll of the Iron Man suit slips through the event horizon the instant the wormhole closes in on itself, and breaks the sound barrier as it hits the air. From the ground, Steve Rogers, Captain America, sees the red oblong splotch careening towards the earth, and leans back for a better view.

"Son of a gun," he smirks, genuinely impressed.

But Thor can see that his Shield Sister does nothing but fall. "She's not slowing." He spins his hammer around his fist, maybe if he strikes her at the right moment, she'll slow enough to survive.

Hulk sees the Metal Girl's body too, and jumps off the building to catch her, but misses.

Thor makes his throw, but the impact only causes the Woman Of Iron to roll.

In the final few seconds of Toni Stark's life, everyone holds their breath, some tightly shutting the image from their eyes; then, the instant before the suit hits the ground, most turn away and grimace in revolt for what's to come. But when the suit does hits the ground, the force is only as much as if it had landed from a standing fall.

The three men rush to Toni's side, flip her over, and tear her face plate off. She looks unconscious, but her features also look far too peaceful for the amount of damage on her face and suit.

Hulk screams his rage at the woman's death. The others, just stare.

Seconds pass as Fury continuously calls over the radio for an update.

The entire team is beginning to gather around the metal shell that was once a very annoying, but very courageous woman. They, and some bystanders who have poked around corners and out windows, are in various stages of grief and shock, some weep, others stare. A news helicopter hovers above the scene, broadcasting a close-up of Toni's battered and broken face to the world.

On a corporate jet some distance away, Pepper covers her mouth to hold in sobs as she presses her cell phone to her ear. This is the third time she's listening to Toni's message.

Rhodey watches the same footage on his suit's holographic display from Asia, but his image has a caption beneath it, 'Iron Man: No link'.

The aliens have all collapsed, and now there's nothing left to do, but stare at the unmoving figure of Antonia Stark, The Invincible Iron Man.

 

"Wake up."

The voice makes Toni's skin crawl. "Go'way," she whines as she swats at her ear, but is only able to bash the side of her helmet.

"You owe me Stark," the voice says in an almost sing-song way.

"I sai' fu'off," she yells at it and twists onto her forearm to sit up.

Everyone freezes for a moment, the Avengers, the world, even Toni. The tension is broken when Stark looks around, bleary eyed and confused. Half the Avengers laugh while half the world cheers. Pepper covers her eyes and cries harder and swears to quit. Rhodey slaps his hands together, cheers, and takes off into the sky to do some celebratory acrobatics.

Steve kneels beside the Inventor and asks while still chuckling, "who the hell are you talking to Stark?"

Toni's dizzy and swooning and searching the sky above, "uhm, whad' I jus'do." She looks at Rogers, her head weaving, "how'd'I survive tha'."

Overjoyed, Thor pulls her into a bear hug. "I know not shield sister, but I'm greatly relieved you're not on your way to Valhalla."

"Yeah, don't want to go there," her voice is a detached sing-song of sarcasm. "Terrible restaurant, terrible food." She pulls herself from the big blonde man's grasp; then flops onto her back. "Someone wake me when the ambulance ge'z'ere."

Steve pulls on her arm, "come on. Get up."

"God Rogers. I just blew up the fucking wire, can you give me a god damn break and let me suffer in peace."

"Nope."

The man is far too cheery for her taste, "I'd punch you in the gut right now, if the hydraulics in this'ing weren't shot. And I knew which one of you to punch."

The rest of the team follow as Steve drags her shuffling body along.

"Get back," she waves to the others, "get back, damn it. Just 'cause he wants to be an idiot, doesn't mean you all have to be."

Steve laughs at her antics, "the big girl without her suit's still as social as ever."

"Nah," Toni chuckles, "big girl without her suit's radioactive, and dropping your sperm count like flies in a flash blizzard."

Everyone else takes several big steps away, but Steve continues to drag her on.

"Anyone wanna tell Flash Gordon here what nukes do, yeah'know, besides go boom."

Bruce has reverted back to being a pink skinned, albeit almost naked man as they've walked. "Toni was close enough to that explosion, that she would've been exposed to several times the radiation levels as Hiroshima."

"What's Hiroshima," Steve asks.

"Nothing," Toni answers quickly, "how about a victory cuddle super soldier." She throws her other arm around his neck and hang off.


	2. Deals, Dickheads, and Flying out the cuckoo's nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toni wakes from Pepper's forced convalescence to Lady Loki looking for protection, and Steve apparently hanging around her hospital room. Some'm gotta break in the face of *that* much annoyance.

Toni's consciousness is fading in and out, not from the effects of her injuries, but from the effects of medication. Medication which was not only authorized by her proxy, but demanded by her. Demanded by Pepper Potts. Pepper goddamn Potts, best friend and control freak extraordinaire.

The radiation poisoning hadn't been all that bad, and she'd been walking and talking mostly on her own in the aftermath of 'the event', but the burns and the cardiac bleeding had been much worse, and they had to put her under for an emergency open heart. When they were finished however, they didn't let her wake up. Pepper had convinced them that she was an extreme flight risk, and left her in a chemical coma for five days. Once that wore off, they strapped her to a hospital bed and tranqed her for another five.

Toni thought that she would've been fine with just a patch job and a transfusion, but when she voiced this opinion last night to the bane of her existence, Pep said that attitude was exactly the reason they'd kept her under. But the doctors didn't want to keep her medicated for any longer than they already had, although Pepper tried to argue that she needed more down time, or at least more 'strapped to the bed' time. Thankfully though, they didn't want to do that anymore either.

The fog of medication begins to clear, and Toni is no longer feeling loopy, or that she's in some kind of dream state, and calculates that in another twenty hours, she'll be strong enough, and clear minded enough, to go home. There was some minor threat made by her former PA, that if she didn't stay in the hospital and follow all the doctors instructions, Pep would never forgive her, but the Inventor’s sure that it was nothing more than an idle one, and besides, who knew their body better than the person living in it.

Her mind's sharpening further, and already she's going over new designs for the Iron Man armour in her head. The Mark VII was probably going to be a complete wash, highly specialized electronics don't typically survive nuclear detonation level EMPs. And she could almost remember something going horribly wrong with it, but the details were just ever so slightly out of her reach, which is bugging her to no end. Grabbing the missile, calling Pepper, and steering it into the wormhole, were all a blur, but a blur she could remember. After that, all she can recall is the sound of a driving electric guitar. She can also remember waking up after the fall and how she survived it.

"You owe me Stark." Right on time, the how Stark survived, arrives.

Toni's impressed by this being's flare for the dramatic, and ability to show up at exactly the right, or wrong moment. Opening her eyes, she greets the spectacularly gorgeous woman standing in front of her, in the manor it most deserves.

"I heard you the first time Loki, you insane shape-shifting moron. You tore half the city down and killed a crap-ton of people. What the hell do I owe you"

The Trickster God, in female form, smiles and giggles softly, "I killed no one on your world mortal." Stark stares her down. "well," her smile widens, "no one directly."

"Hmm, what do you want."

"Asylum."

Toni blinks and glares; then blinks some more. "Asylum? You want asylum from the people you terrorized, and why can't Rogers hear us."

Loki turns to the man sleeping in a chair by Stark's bed, and answers the mortal's questions in order. "I want asylum from you, not earth, and because I'm preventing him from hearing us."

"You're a miserable, psychotic little shit Loki, and I hope your brother drops the hammer on you hard."

The God's smile widens as her eyes flash manically. "You defeated them once clever mortal, do you think you can do it again?"

Toni stares the Trickster down, "if you're planning to bring those creepy ass aliens back-"

"Not I," Loki cuts Stark off, "simple mortal, the Other and his Master."

"I thought I was clever, oh he-she that is eternally confused."

Loki lowers her lips to the other woman's ear, and whispers seductively, "you have been clever, but it seems, that might be waning, and I thought you would like this form much better."

"And what do I get in return?"

"An ally?" the God sees that Stark remains unimpressed. "Then what would you like."

"Every tiny iota of information you have on: the aliens, whatever The Other and it's Master is, the sceptre you were waving around, the Infinity Stone, and you not lying to me."

Loki raises her eyebrow.

"Bye-bye Loki," Toni waves and sing-songs irritatingly, "Toni go sleepy now."

With a gentle hand, the God prevents Stark from rolling over, "I will give you what you ask."

"And no lying."

"I am the god of lies."

"You're a trickster," Toni sticks her finger in Loki's face, "and even that is open for debate. You might be the god of fire or outcasts or destruction, but you're perfectly capable of telling the truth when it suits you."

"Cleverer still mortal," Loki smiles cutely. "I made the correct choice in coming to you." Stark's glare does nothing to faze her, she continues, "you will give me asylum, because I am a riddle which you must solve."

"Did you really play tug of war with a goat tied to your testicle?" 

Loki's smile fades.

"No lies, none negotiable, and you do what I tell you to. Got it?"

"And you will simply accept my word?"

It's Toni's turn to smile. "If you break your word, I'll hand you over to your brother."

"And what do I get from the deal," Loki hedges.

"Listen, god of negotiations, you're the one with your skin on the line, the asylum *is* what you get."

The God remains silent.

"This is it," Toni affirms, "every piece of information you know, *and* can get on: the aliens, The Other, the Master, the sceptre, the Infinity Stone, no lying to me, you stay in female form around me, and you do what I tell you."

Loki holds her hands like a bowl in front of her mouth and speaks into them, "I will tell you everything I know about, and tell you where you can find more information on: the Chitauri, the Leviathans, The Other, The Other's Master, the Chitauri Sceptre, the Tesseract, and I will tell you no lies. In exchange for your asylum." She then closes her hands, balls one into a fist, and holds it out to Stark.

"The female form and the do what I say?"

"No."

Toni pauses a moment, trying to make the Trickster hedge once again, but relents. "What the hell am I supposed to do, bump fists?"

"You will breath in our deal Stark. If you then break it, you will choke on it."

"Fine," she takes Loki's hand, holds it next to her mouth, and breathes in.

Mist begins to seep out from around the God's fingers as she slowly opens them.

Toni takes the mist into her lungs, smacking her lips when done, "mmm, smokey."

"You did not ask what would happen if *I* broke our deal."

"You die," the Inventor smirks, "or am I wrong to assume that what just went on, would be taken really seriously by the other so called gods."

Loki lifts her chin.

"Fine, keep your own counsel." Toni settles further into the bed. "Your name is Lori, not very inventive, I know, but it'll insure a minimum of mind lock. And make sure Thor doesn't recognize you."

"He will not. I have placed enchanted contacts lenses onto my eyes."

"All in the eyes, hm?"

Loki hands Stark a tablet.

"Charging head first into the twenty-first century," Toni mocks as she takes it. But when the Asgardian says nothing, she continues without looking away from the device, "you're my new personal assistant, JARVIS will keep you up to date on almost everything that entails. All you have to do is, stand attentively while Pepper bitches at you for not getting me to do something, stand attentively while I ignore that thing, and be withing shouting distance from eight in the morning, till six at night. You'll also need a phone or something so that JARVIS can use it to remind you at what times to do things.

"Outside of those requirements, whatever you do is your business, but I'd refrain from doing anything illegal as that'll probably bring the hammer down on you. Check in tomorrow morning at the tower with human resources and they'll give you a choice of said phones, and more than likely, send you to Pepper for the usual, 'your life is over' speech." Toni pauses a moment, "any questions Ms Lori."

"None Ms Stark," the God's voice changes from a smokey, resonating, silky dulcet befitting of a god, to an almost too chipper, saccharine sweet, chirp, "and I want to thank you for this opportunity to work with you. You're such a hero and..."

Steve flinches at the noise and sits up grumbling.

Loki gasps and covers her mouth. "Oh, Mr America, I am so sorry for waking you, I was just thanking Ms Stark for the incredible job opportunity and telling her how much I admire her for being a super hero-"

Mercifully, Steve cuts her off, "Captain, America." he stands and extends his hand. "Steven Rogers, at your service ma'am, miss?"

"Oww," Toni interjects, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "you got a hand shake, his name, his service, and a ma'am. He likes you."

"Oh," Loki beams, "Lori. I'm Lori Leofric Mr- Captain America, and I like you too sir, but no one compares to Iron Man."

"You know," the Inventor waves, "I was going to kick you out but please, feel free to continue to gush at how much better I am then Roger Dodger here."

"Ignore her," Steve smiles as Loki takes his hand, "Iron Man is a great hero. Too bad it's pilot is a pain in the behind."

Toni lays her hand on her reactor, but continues not to look up from the tablet, "you pierce my genius created, atomically powered heart, with your witty re'part'eh."

Steve glares at Stark as Loki continues to smile empty-headedly.

"If you both are just going to stand there, one of you needs to get me a coffee."

"Oh," Loki's cheery voice could induce diabetes, "I'll get it for you Ms Stark."

Toni watches the Asgardian leave from the corner of her eye, and thinks that the Trickster's an amazingly committed play actor.

"You could be a little nicer Toni," Steve chides when the door fully closes.

"To her, or to you. And how's that sun burn of yours?"

"If it wasn't for the serum, I'd be seriously ill Toni. That's not a very nice thing you did."

The Inventor continues not to pause in her reading. "Do you know what really *is* a nice thing? For me anyways?"

"What's that Toni."

"No one else told you. Even after I warned them, even after they stepped away." She finally looks up, "I'm not nice, but they like *me* more than super nice you. Isn't that just grand Rogers." Then returns to her reading.

Steve snatches the tablet away, "you're not a very good team player Stark."

As he spoke, Loki comes back into the room, balancing three coffees and a bunch of creamers in her hands, and says threw several packets of sugar in her mouth, "I didn't know what everyone took, so I just brought everything, and I hope that's okay."

One of the coffees tips forward, and the God seems to try to compensate to keep it balanced, but ends up smashing all three cups, along with the creamers, into Captain America’s side.

Steve jerks away from the gushing torrent with a squeak, drops the tablet onto Stark's legs, and pulls at his now wet, and very hot clothes.

"Oh! I'm so sorry Mr America! Let me help you," Loki fumbles, trying to mop up the coffee with a tiny napkin but only ends up pushing the man's soaked clothes back against his skin. "I'm so very sorry, I just got the coffees and I was coming back and you turned around and it was an accident and-"

"Lori, it's all right," Steve gingerly grabs at her hands. "I'll just go to the bathroom and clean it up." He quickly leaves.

Loki looks to Stark, her fingers on her lips, a frightened expression in her eyes, "do you think he'll ever forgive me Ms Stark?"

Toni waits till the door is completely closed before responding. "Laying it on a little thick, aren’t we Loki? And, powerful leaf? Really?"

The God's eyes go even wider, "oh Ms Stark. I hope that you don't mean to imply that I did that on purpose by calling me the Trickster God?"

The Inventor picks the tablet back up. "God of mayhem maybe, sorta a combination of destruction and trickery, which, doesn't preclude lying to achieve such mayhem."

Loki's voice turns smokey and silky again, "Mayhem. I like that clever one." Then turns back to cream soda, "I'll see you tomorrow Ms Stark. Please tell Mr America I'm sorry?"

Toni hums, waves her out, and settles down for some serious reading.

The tablet actually has a lot of information on it, far more than she would have imagined. It even has some information on the biology of the Chitauri. There's tons on the Infinity Stone, which is also called the Tesseract and is only one of six such devices. It somewhat surprising, but it looks like the Trickster is actually coming through on her end of the deal. 'Trickster', Toni decides, is as good a name as any to refer to the obnoxious being, because quiet frankly, she refuses to think of any of the Asgardians as gods. They're creatures, beings, aliens, but definitely not deities.

The level of detail contained within the documents, is staggering, and it's also becoming evident why Loki had asked for the asylum. She wasn't hiding from Thor and Odin, she was afraid of the Master and his minions. Toni knew when they had the Trickster in the holding cell that she was really just angry and wanting to cause a bunch of havoc, but the aliens and their controllers didn't really give a damn about Loki. They just wanted what they wanted, whatever that was, and if the Trickster hadn't done exactly what they told her to do, they would have ground her into Asgardian hamburger.

It was also clear from her account on the tablet that Asgard seemed to be in shambles, but from what Toni had already read in the mythology stories, that was par for the course. Except, it really wasn't. Asgard was a cyclical reality, it should repeat events about the same way on each cycle, but it wasn't doing that this time around. Some players who shouldn't be dead, were dead, and some events which should have happened, hadn't. Plus there was a whole plethora of events that shouldn't have occurred, but did. Something in their reality had changed and the subtext in Loki's account made it look as though there was a grab for power, coming from outside their closed system. If it wasn't a rip off of Enterprise, she'd call it 'an interdimensional cold war'.

All too soon, Rogers walks back through the door with a big wet spot on his clothes. Toni doesn't *really* hate the guy, she just hates being told what to do, and she hates it even more when she's being told to do something that she knows is contrary. He's arrogant and self righteous, giving orders as if he knew what the hell he was doing, and not some nobody who just so happened to be experimented on.

What Rogers doesn't know, is that Toni has all her fathers notes and journals and knows exactly who this yutz is. He probably thinks he has some idea of who *she* is based on her father, but if he thought that, then he's way wrong. Toni is a hundred times smarter than her dad, and she can think a hell of a lot faster than he ever could. Shit, half the crap Stark Industries sold before his death, were based on doodles she'd made in the margins of old design schematics he'd given her as colouring books. Rogers and her father are relics, a way of thinking and a viewing the future that was way too Jetsons to ever be feasible.

"Where did Lori go," Steve asks as he retakes his seat.

"I don't know," Toni's voice is terse, "why don't you try looking under the bed."

"Toni," he half warns, half whines.

"What the hell are you doing here anyways, Roger Ramjet."

Steve stares, not really sure how to answer.

"'Cause if Pepper told you to stay here," she sticks her finger in his face, "so's that you can try and stop me from leavin'? I'll find an antidote for the super serum. And," she stabs at the air hard, "if you're here for some pathetic romantic reason, I'll fin' a way to keep your head alive in a goddamn jar."

"Toni," he begins, trying to sound kindly, "why do you have to be so aggressive all the time."

"Read up on the sixties Dudley. No, better yet, just ask your mom what Suffragette means."

"I know what Suffragette mean's Toni," Steve shakes his head, then the full weight of what she's said, hits him.

"Oh look, the hamster's not dead," the Inventor mocks.

Steve is almost shaking with anger as he leans into her space. "Just because you think you've had it hard, doesn't give you the right to bully people."

"Nuh, nuh, nuh," Toni babbles, "I think you being a self righteous ass, gives me the right to bully you. I think your attitude, which would have been considered old fashion in the forties, gives me the right to bully you, and I think how you react to my relationship with Pepper, gives me the right to bully you. In fact, I think that everyone like you, who uses growing up in a different generation to justify their bigotry, should be publicly shamed and humiliated until they keep their goddamn opinions to themselves." Her breaths are deep and hard as she glares at him.

Steve glares right back, barely able to hide his shock. Starks seem to have the annoying ability to make conversation ending statements, and any retort anyone could come up with, always sounded childish, but he's figured out one way to get under her skin. He relaxes into the chair and says nothing.

Toni stares harder at him, her anger growing every second he doesn't leave. Her breathing flares and fades as he sits there, trying to look nonchalant. After the fourth minute, she's had enough. She still feels as though her systems are floating in drugs, but her normal intolerance of hospitals is being pushed to critical mass by this 'Vic and Sade' reject.

"That's it," she announces, "I'm done," and rolls out of bed.

Steve moves around to the other side to block her, "where do you think you're going."

"Home."

"You're not well enough yet," he grabs her biceps.

"Steve," her tone is menacing, "does the super serum prevent you from throwing up when someone knees you in the nuts?"

When Rogers turns his hips to the side to protect said organ, she wrenches her body in the opposite direction and out of his grasp. She all but runs to the door, barely scooping the tablet up on her way out.

Steve's only a few steps behind. "Toni," he raises his voice more than is strictly necessary, "you can't go home, you don't have any clothes."

She ignores him and beelines for the stairs.

"Toni, at least talk to the doctor first. Toni!"

Covered only in a hospital gown, she shoves the tablet between her teeth, barrels through a door into the stairwell, scissor leaps over the railing, feels a sharp tug in her chest, hip circles under the stringer, hand stands the next railing; then drops into a flank circle. She repeats the gymnastics' manoeuvres for another two flights of stairs; then finishes with a squat through onto the final case, and sticks the landing with a little flourish.

"What am I without the suit Rogers," Toni yells up at him, "still quicker and more talented than you."

She cradles her aching arc reactor in one hand, and rips the door open with the other, pulling her self through, and into a run.

Not really knowing what's going on, the nurses and orderlies take off after the mostly naked Antonia. She's having fun, despite the mildly sharp pain in her chest, and if she's seriously hurt herself in this overly dramatic escape attempt, it's still fun. She feels like this is some great mental ward breakout, Toni Stark against the grabby Nurse Ratched staff. She idly wonders what a lobotomy would feel like as she slips sideways threw the sliding doors.

Luckily, there's a couple of cabs waiting in the parking lot, and she throws herself into one of them, "extra hundred bux, Stark Towers, now."

"Yes'ah Ms Stark." She can't really place the man's accent, it's like a mix of Jamaican and Alabamian.

Toni giggles maniacally as she looks out the rear window. Six or seven people in scrubs have poured out of the hospital, as well as a dozen or so patients and visitors. Rogers on the other hand, isn't there yet.

She starts massaging the skin around her reactor, her chest is burning a little but it doesn't feel like anything too serious, she's probably just irritated the new scar tissue. She'll ultrasound it when she gets home, but christ, that was fun. Sometimes she just loves being Toni Stark.


	3. Teacups and Tempests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toni's impressed by Loki's documentation of the aliens, and plans to push the Asgardian even further with her abilities. But when Loki shows up to the tower, she makes Pepper jealous and confrontational, forcing Toni to lie to the Redhead, without actually lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: Loki's history is mostly based on Norse Mythology with some analytical interpretation of the texts.

If you want something done right, you'd better damn well do it yourself. That's what Toni's father had always said, and it was one of the few things he'd been consistently right about.

Her escape from the hospital had been fun, but when she arrived at her tower, and after having the receptionist pay the cabby, the tugging in her chest, turned into a burning, and then, she started throwing up. It'd been so painful, and she felt so ill, that she'd worried she'd be forced to call a doctor. But being shoved back into a hospital, was not something Toni wanted to do willingly, so, she'd performed her self promised echo first, and what it'd shown her just proved to her all over again that relying on other people's work, was never a good idea.

They had made an utter mess of her chest. They'd patch the tiny hole in her right ventricle alright, but they'd also nearly doubled the scar tissue around her Reactor in the process, and had pushed one of the field generators, which keeps her heart pumping, out of alignment. To compensate for its less than acceptable power throughput, they'd given her a cocktail of drugs. One to keep her blood pressure up, one to dilate her blood vessels, and one to overstimulate her heart to near failure proportions. In typical medical institution fashion, the bastards had left her swimming in pharmaceuticals when all that'd been needed to make her body function properly, was to rotate that little emitter a few degrees.

With that in mind, she'd decided to perform the surgery on herself, but operating laparoscopic equipment on ones own body is problematic at the best of times. Doing so while stoned on cardiac meds, is close to suicidal. But she'd done it anyway, because quite frankly she's the only person on the planet with the skill sets to fix such a defect. Unfortunately though, there was little she could do about the scar tissue, and could only adjust the Reactor's housing to try to lessen the irritation.

The operation was of course, a complete success. Well, as much of a success one could have while fixing someone else's fuck-ups, and after sleeping off the effects of the numbing agent she'd given herself, as well as the bad high from the hospital, her nausea is all but gone, and her chest pain is back down to a manageable level. She's also trying to take it easy for once in her life, and's glad to have Loki's StarkTab to occupy herself with. Because normally lying around on her couch with little to do, would drive her insane. But the data is compelling, so compelling in fact, that the Mark VII still lays untouched and in pieces at the bottom of a crate in her lab. She has back-up suits of course, but usually, her primary takes priority over everything else.

Even the mild sense of dread that she's been feeling since waking up, isn't as bothersome as she'd expect it to be. She knows the dread stems from her forgetting something important but she's searched her mind, trying to find something that might help her remember what it might be. But whatever it is, it's staying just out of her perception, mocking and jeering from the sidelines, and the fact that Loki's information can distract her from all that and demand so much of her attention, is a testament to how detailed and expansive it is.

She knows the Trickster probably conjured the tablet into existence, but she doesn't think that the Asgardian conjured the detailed observations and reference notes contained within, and if Loki hadn't magicked them, but had in fact had actually written them herself, or at least thought them, then the Trickster is truly a brilliant individual.

The mythology paints her as an accomplished sorcerer and tactician, but Toni feels that there's more, and can sense that the Asgardian holds an untapped genius within her mind. Obviously however, she'd been restricted by the tools of her culture, and Toni's sure that Asgard has very little that could be called science. But even with that restriction Loki had managed to put together these very impressive, and surprisingly complete documents, and she's sure that all the Trickster really needs to fully bring out her innate abilities, is the proper resources.

It seems obvious to the Inventor that together, they could figure out how this thing called 'magic' works. She knows there's a risk in letting a violent and pathological liar into her lab, but she doesn't really care, the knowledge to be gained from collaborating is far too tempting a prize. It's like Pandora's box, the Sirens, and Tantalus' fruit, all wrapped up in the sexiest goth chick she's ever seen. And if Toni is right about Loki's abilities, then the Asgardian could be the gatekeeper to the greatest discovery since steam power.

Then again, she could also turn out to be the bane of all humanity. Toni doesn't think that'll be the case though, she doesn't think that the Trickster would ever actually enslave the planet. But even if she did, she doesn’t think the self proclaimed god would care about the day to day lives of her so-called subjects. She'd just be an enormous and constant pain in the ass, demanding that people call her god, and worship her.

Really, all she needs to do to gain access to her prize is to channel the dark alien in the right direction. She's good at channelling herself, and that skill *has* to be exportable. She just needs to figure out what Loki needs. Then, everything will fall into place.

"Ms Stark," JARVIS pierces her thoughts, "Ms Potts and Ms Leofric are here."

Something begins to trigger in the back of Toni's mind, but she doesn't stop in her reading. "Didn't you start calling me Toni?"

"I don't recall doing so ma'am."

The Inventor's mind surges for a moment, and ghostly fragments of memory flash in her mind's eye. The missile, swearing, desperation, sobs, suffocation, pain, heat, music, teasing, resignation, sacrifice, fear, regret, panic, and pride, all flare into her thoughts. The mild sense of dread she's been feeling all day BLEVEs from the depths of her psyche, but then, just as quickly atomizes into confusion. She mind-locks for a moment, staring through Loki's tablet, trying to organize her thoughts, but whatever it is that's bothering her stays stubbornly out of reach.

"Toni," Pepper barks, her voice laced with irritation, "we need to talk about this girl you hired."

The Inventor slumps a little into the couch as the Redhead steps into her personal space and towers over her.

"Here," the CEO holds out a small paper portion cup, and a disposable drinking glass.

"Where've you been." Toni downs her meds, following them up with the water.

"Running your company Ms Stark."

"Good," she nods, "and how's that going Ms Potts."

Pepper sighs. "Toni, can we drop the game."

"It's not a game Pep," the Inventor asserts, "I'd genuinely like to know how my company's doing."

"It's doing fine, but the research teams would like to know when you'll be dropping by."

Toni shrugs, "don'no. Why, they get stuck on retro-engineering one of the alien baddies?"

"No," Pepper's voice turns soft and welcoming, "they just miss you. You leave a path of devastation in your wake, but you also leave a bunch of new ideas and tech for them to analyze."

"Hhm. Well," she purses her lips up at the other woman, "you know me, burn the old, make way for the new."

"Can we talk about the lawsuit over there," the Redhead flicks her head at Loki.

"Don't worry about her Pep, she's my problem." When her friend only stares, Toni remembers that she's not in on the arrangement. "What?" she tries to cover her laps, "I can control myself."

Pepper pulls away slightly and just looks at the other woman for a moment, mock written all over her face. "Sunset Bain, Justin Cord, both Hammer kids, Daniel Brie-"

"Are you done," the Inventor tries to interrupt.

"Me, Senator Sterns' son-"

"Guess not."

"Seriously Toni," Pepper's face hardens, "what's your interest in her."

She looks to Loki trying to decide what to tell her friend. Sexual interest would be an easy way to divert the Redhead's attention, the truth on the other hand would be hard and messy. Telling Pepper might also endanger her and it might cause further problems, but it would definitely worry her. Toni needs to hedge her bets, needs to soften the blow for when it all comes out, or at least soften it enough so that Loki won't be strung up immediately.

Compromise, she thinks; then gestures to the Trickster, "could you take a seat Ms Leofric."

The God raises an eyebrow at Stark, her look measured and suspicious, but does as she's told and sits were the Mortal vacates, as Stark pulls Potts towards the lifts.

Once beside the elevators, Toni keeps her friend's back to Loki. "All I can tell you Pep," she tries to convey the honesty of her statement, "is that she's not who she seems to be, and that she'll be helping me decode the aliens' tech."

Somewhat shocked, Loki stares wide eyed at Stark.

"Who *is* she," Pepper demands quietly.

Again, Toni's stuck trying to weigh how much truth to tell. "She's an Asgardian, someone who was close to Loki and who came here at the same time."

The God is glaring through the Mortal now, anger and a measure of panic threatening about her features.

"JARVIS, open the elevator doors," demands the Redhead and pulls Stark in behind her when they do, "close them," then waits until they're fully shut before continuing in a harsh whisper, "are you out of your mind Toni!?"

"They're going to come back," she defends, "it's only a matter of time."

"But one of Loki's underlings!? He's a psychopath. How do you know she's not either? How do you know she's not playing you until they can both turn us all into frightened worshippers?"

"I don't," Toni chooses her words very carefully, "but those aliens are the bigger threat and if Lori can help me understand them; then maybe we'll have a better chance the next time."

Pepper shakes her head. "this is *so* risky Toni. What if she's telling Loki everything."

"I'm operating under the assumption that he knows everything she does." If the fiery, hot tempered Redhead ever finds out the truth, Toni knows she's in for something horrible.

"And you're just going to trust them!?"

"No. Of course not. But you saw those things, we've got almost nothing to protect ourselves with. What if next time they're in orbit and not on the other side of a wormhole? What if they bring more ships?"

"Toni," the Redhead puts her hands on the other woman's shoulders, "I know what you're saying, I know what might be at stake, but you must see how badly this might turn out."

She takes her friend's hands into her own and holds them gently. "I know Pepper. And I'm not going to say that I know what I'm doing, because we both know that'd be a conceded exaggeration-"

"That's putting it lightly," Pepper interrupts with a humourless snort.

"But," the Inventor continues, "I know the risks and what's at stake."

"God Toni," the Redhead breathes, "does Thor know who this person is."

"Thor doesn't know."

Pepper shakes her head and looks away.

"No Pep," Toni manoeuvres to catch the other woman's eye. "Thor can't know anything about this. At least not yet."

It's at this moment that Pepper has what Toni calls 'a convergence of thoughts'.

During Lori's orientation, Pepper had spied on the Woman through the surveillance system, and had seen how exceptionally attractive she is. She'd seen how flawless and perfectly porcelain coloured her skin is, except for around her chipped emerald eyes, where her colouring gives her a dark and mysterious look. She'd examined Lori's hair from multiple angles and thought of how it'd reminded her of the colouring and vibrancy of raven feathers. She'd also been more than a little irritated at how the Woman flaunted her perfect, bra-less breasts and voluptuous athlete physique. At the time, Pepper thought that Lori looked like a very privileged Victorian woman.

Then she'd watched as Lori shamelessly undressed other women with her eyes, and smirked at the men's behinds. The Redhead would have normally chuckled at such a spectacle, and compared her to Toni, but the Dark Woman was going to be working with the equally shameless playgirl, and the prospect of the two of them together was, frightening.

Unlike her friend however, Lori held herself with an aloof demeanour, as if she had disdain for the entire world, an attitude that only served to amplify her natural beauty, and draw others to her mysteriousness. Pepper certainly does not have low self-esteem and she knows herself to be attractive, but as she'd watched Lori, she couldn't help but think of how the Woman is the kind of attractive that the Redhead hated, the kind that grabbed the attention away from everyone else. 

After, during her interview, Pepper'd found Lori to be frighteningly intelligent. The Woman didn't have the kinds of degrees which would have legitimized her intellect, but she'd scored perfect on the company's aptitude test. Toni was the only other person to have ever done that, and it made Pepper think of how she herself could never really compete with the maddening genius, but that maybe Lori could, and maybe even be able to equal her. She'd also discovered that the Woman was just as single minded, compulsive, and rude as her best friend, and that she hides her inherently anti-socialness behind a babbling and bubbly exterior.

At the time, her thoughts were nothing more than a jumble, but now, looking into her friend's eyes and having those thoughts converge, Pepper realizes, Lori would be a perfect match for Toni.

Lori's physique is most definitely Toni's type, and the Asgardian is obviously bisexual, and the Inventor absolutely adores beautiful bisexual women. In fact, Toni is fond of saying, that bisexuals were more evolved then monosexuals. It's the So-Called-Goddess' intelligence however that will make her friend fall for her, and Pepper knows that if the two women did get together, their abilities and attitudes would play off of one another.

They'd most definitely have epic fights and debates, but they'd be able to understand one another and hold their own against the others' arrogance, and Pepper genuinely wants her friend to find someone who she'll be able to create some happiness with, and she thinks that since Afghanistan, Toni's truly ready to let someone in. She had wanted that someone to be herself though, because she truly loves the Genius and she did try to become something more than a friend to her, but Pepper just isn't sexually attracted to Toni, and forcing herself to be gay for her friend, did not turn out so well.

A few moments ago, and before learning who Lori really was, Pepper'd felt jealousy toward the Dark Woman. Jealous, because if Lori and Toni did fall into a relationship, her own place in her friend’s life would shrink, but she also feels that if they did get together, and something were to go wrong between them, the surprisingly sensitive Genius would be devastated, and might never try to have another meaningful relationship again.

But now that she knows that Lori is an Asgardian and was associated with Loki, she genuinely fears that her offer of help might be a trick. She's trying to convince herself that her primary concern is to protect Toni's feelings, but the jealousy of losing part of her friend to someone else is just too strong and it'd been burning long before Toni's revelation, and the selfishness of it, fills her chest with guilt and forces her eyes shut against the heartache.

Pepper turns away from her friend, trying to hide her emotions, and begins to plead with the Genius. "Promise me Toni," she squeezes the other woman's hands, and tries to bury her less altruistic feelings; then, looks back into her friends eyes and hopes that what she's about to say, she's saying for the right reasons. "Promise me that you wont sleep with this woman."

Toni doesn't hesitate, "I'm not stupid Pep."

The Redhead tries not to deflate, her friend's reply means that she's thought about it, and isn't completely discounting the possibility. When Toni says anything other than 'I promise' the first time she's asked; then asking her again would only force her to say something she might not mean. Antonia Stark is a genius in so many ways, but when it comes to love or sex, she's largely a clueless moron.

"Tell me that you have contingencies," She hopes aloud.

"I'm working on it," Toni tries to sound reassuring.

Shaking her head, Pepper turns away again.

"I don't have a lot of room to manoeuvre right now," the Inventor tries.

"Alright," the Redhead takes a breath and nods, "JARVIS is monitoring her?"

"I am Ms Potts," the AI answers, attempting to assure her that he's not going to take any chances either.

"Alright," she shakes her head and pulls her hands from Toni's, "let me know when you need me to intervene."

"I will." The Inventor kisses her friend's cheek. "I promise. And if worse comes to worse, we'll let Thor know."

Pepper nods. She has no other choice but to trust Toni. She definitely doesn't trust any ally of Loki's, former or otherwise, and can only hope that her friend will call for help when she needs it. It's at times like these that it seems like the infuriating Genius, is utterly infatuated with danger.

Toni smiles, trying to be charming and reassuring, and leaves Pepper in the elevator to get back to work. In the apartment, Loki's sitting exactly where they'd left her, and as she slips back into the small foyer, the Trickster immediately takes to staring into her.

"An interesting lie wrapped in truths," Loki says with a touch of amusement. 

"I didn't lie," Toni defends, a little outrage seeping into her voice, "I just didn't tell her the whole story."

"The most important part. Or so Ms Potts will believe."

"Yeah, uh'huh," the Inventor stabs her finger at the Asgardian, "all I did was omit that you were Loki and told her everything else."

The God smiles widely, "I too once justified my lies to myself, but I find it much easier to simply admit, that I'm manipulating someone who is foolish enough to trust me."

Toni stomps into the Trickster's personal space to stands threateningly over her. "Listen, God of the Obnoxious, I'm trying to lay some groundwork for you here, because eventually we're going to be found out, cause I don't think you're capable of behaving."

Loki's smile fades a little.

"And quite frankly." The Inventor bends over the asgardian woman, bringing them face to face. "When that happens, you and I *both*, will need allies and guess what, God of the Ingrates," the Trickster's brow raises, "I got a'ho'la'wack'a'more allies than you do right now, so shut up and let me help you."

"Is it a common practice of yours, that when you are annoyed, you weave an insult into a name."

"Yeah, all the time, and the more obscure it is, the more I like it."

Loki cocks her head, "why?" She continues before the Mortal can answer the wrong question, "why are you attempting to better my eventual relations with others."

Toni bats her hand at the other Woman, "just take the help, okay?"

"Very well," the God nods once.

"Good, fine." The Inventor pauses a moment, thinking that the Asgardian has agreed far too easily, but drops her curiosity and continues, "I checked you know, you really didn't kill anyone."

The God blinks, and turns her head slightly, but does nothing more.

"Even before we had that little froggy splash out there," Toni gestures at the window before flopping down onto the couch. "The eight people you actually attacked directly, they all survived, even Coulson, who's wounds *should* have been fatal."

"As I told you."

"And," the Inventor punctuates the word, "you were too busy getting your face bashed in when the sky fell on us, so you couldn't have ordered around any of the things that actually did the killing."

Loki flinches at the thought of her encounter with the Hulk.

"So! I ask again, God of Plans within Plans, what do you want."

"I'm afraid I do not understand the question."

"Enough," Toni spits, "do you think I'm fee'fle."

The God raises a eyebrow, "certainly not, clever mortal, but I fail to see how my not killing your kind, is indication that I have not told you all."

"You. Are. Terrified." The Inventor stabs every word with her finger. "Every step you took was a step toward saving your own goddamn skin, and what I want to know is if you think I can protect your sorry ass, or if you're just using earth as a buffer zone."

"I see," the God raises her head slightly. "Well rest assured Mortal, your little Realm is by no means a buffer zone to me. For if your precious earth falls, so too will the other Realms." Before Stark can respond, she continues, "it is in fact, Odin, who considers your home a buffer. He hides the other Worlds behind this one, so that he may plan and scheme accordingly, and so that when battle does come, it ruins not his lawn."

"But you care more about your own survival then anyone else's, isn't that right?"

"Of course I do," Loki scoffs, "why would I not. I care not for you, or your band of marry misfits. Nor do I care for Thor or his pathetic lot. There is very little else of importance to me, other than my own survival."

As soon as the Trickster finishes speaking, Toni beams. "There, you see, that wasn't so hard for you to tell me the truth, now was it?"

The God doesn't answer, she just stares daggers at the infuriating Mortal.

"Despite what Thor and the stories say about you, you don't lie, you just word things to people so that they get the wrong impression."

Loki's glare grows colder.

"You're not an enigma, Little Forest Fire, you're actually extremely easy to read, once you get a few simple rules down." Toni ignores the Trickster's growing rage. "Now, you've been true to your word, so what else do you want."

"For you to cease angering me."

"Not gonna happen," the Inventor shakes her head, "I pick at threads until the tapestry of knowledge unravels and wisdom and insight come tumbling out."

"Pardon me?" Loki gapes.

"What," Toni shrugs, "I have to maintain my clever image, it doesn't just appear out of nowhere you know."

The God continues to eye Stark with equal parts interest, and confusion.

"You know what I think Loki m'girl," Toni doesn't wait for a response, "I think you're the God of Life, or the personification of life, I'm not really sure how that goes, because every convention you take has some ties to life or living. You take the shape of either a life giver, which I think a male being the life giver is moronic, or you're a life bearer, but either way, your obsessed with having children, and, if your parent's names are any indication, you were born to a lightening strike from leaf litter, and by the way, isn't that fact just hilarious, which makes you, forest fire, or smoke, but I find that less likely, and fire lives, it breathes, and eats and spawns more fires."

Loki's look of interest and confusion, grows into shock and stun.

"Your marriage to sorrow birthed a guardian of the dead, an intelligent and resourceful wolf who will also be the downfall of the gods, and the world serpent, who as far as I can tell, represents the ever renewal of nature, and when he's had enough of our antics, will let go of his tail, and poison the rain." Toni blinks and repositions herself to appear even more arrogant. "Did I miss anything?"

The God flounders a little, but remains silent.

"Oh yes," the Inventor holds up her finger, "your union to the female personification of victory, who by the way, I think is supposed to free you from your bonds at some point, but I can't find anything to support that thought, except for the fact that she's also called the breaker of bindings, gives you unwavering devotion."

After a long moment of silence, Loki whispers, "the Others killed Sigyn."

"I'm sorry," Toni offers sincerely, "that wasn't supposed to happen."

"No. It was not."

"In any event," the Inventor continues, "all'you asgards seem to be really OCD about personifying some aspect of something, which leads me to believe that your reality was constructed by someone or something, but then again, we could all be in one big elaborate simulation."

While Stark continues her ramblings, Loki drifts back to staring blankly at her.

"I broke your brain," Toni concludes, "didn't I. You see, sometimes I break peoples brains, but-"

"Be still your tongue mortal! You have not broken my brain." The God regains her composure. "You speak incessantly. However, some of what you say has merit."

"Okay then, what do you want?"

"Why do you insist on repeating that question!"

"Because you still haven't fully answered me," Toni shrugs.

"I wish the mad Titan extinguished. He believes himself the love of Death, True Death, not a guardian like my daughter. He kills mindlessly to send her souls as courting gifts. I wish to live in peace, away from the other insane gods. I wish to awaken each morning and not curse my life, and, I wish to be myself, not what Others desire me to be." Loki finishes her short rant, her breaths heaving with emotion.

Toni absently picks at the skin on her lip with her teeth. "Yeah, we can do that."

"I dislike you Mortal."

"I'll get you some study material," the Inventor jumps off the couch and heads to her workshop.

Loki scurries after her. "To study what precisely."

"Magic, fee'fle. It'll keep you ad'ah trouble and it's something else we can use each other for."

"Cease using words you know not the meaning of!"

Toni spins around on the Trickster. "I'll get you any resource material I can, if," she points, "you give me a copy of all your notes *and*, they have to be well taken notes."

Loki glares.

"This is how it's going to work," the Inventor begins counting off on her fingers, "I'm going to give you space in my shop to do your research. I own everything that I get for you to play with. You'll keep everything in the lab, minus maybe a few books, or a tablet for when we're on the road. You'll keep everything out in the open. You'll let JARVIS scan everything. And you'll keep me up to date."

"I agree to those terms," closing her eyes, Loki nods.

"That's it? You're not going to ask for more? You're not going to try to extort some'm more ad'ah me?"

"Would it be successful?"

"No it wouldn't. Alright," Toni claps her hands together and turns back to the lab, "JARVIS my dear. Research mode. Order a lab desk, some shelves, white board, cork board, chair, you know, the usual. And add Loki slash Lori to the lab access list." She turns back to the Asgardian, "if you need access to other equipment, you can use anything in the building," then points at the Trickster, "as long as JARVIS is observing you."

Loki feels more than a little tired from speaking to Stark. It is as if each word the Mortal has spoken, has drained a little energy from her body. She's also more than a little confused, and somewhat shocked. This Midgardian is actually going to help her, not just use her, not just take from her what she wants while giving nothing in return, and the God can't sense a slip of deceit in her offer. Either Antnia Stark is the most trusting, and giving being in all the Realms, or she's an utter dullard.

"As you wish Mortal," the God sighs, not really knowing what else to say, and not having the energy to consider more.

Toni gives the Trickster her most terrible, tooth filled grin. "By the way, fee'fle means: feeble of the mind, idiot, fool, or buffoon. You do know that Old Norse is the root of a bunch of still existing earth languages, *and* texts of the original still exist." Her eyes flash a little, "so, don't think that your aesir language is so special, actually," she taps her lips in mock thought, "come to think of it, maybe you should read more."

The God growls, the full force of her anger returning.

"Or maybe learn to read to begin with, ya'know, instead of using magic to do it."

"I readest long before thou beest a thought in thine ancestor's head," Loki bellows, her root speech slipping.

"Temper, temper, mon petit dieu," Toni chides as she turns back to her lab, "what ever would the Others think if they could hear you speaking like such a smeggy little gutter trollop."


	4. All Manner of Reciprocity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JARVIS and Loki test one another, learn how to relate to each other, and of course, surprise the other.

Toni Stark's workshop opens with the extremely loud and sharp sounds of a guitar, drum, and flute washing out. An instant later, Loki stomps threw, seething and spitting threw her teeth, and fleeing from the infuriating Mortal before she can kill her. Behind the Trickster however, Toni continues to sing with glee and gusto.

"I come from a land down under," she yells as loudly as she can while still keeping the note, "where beer does flow and men chunder!"

"Yes Loki," the God mutters to herself, "fine idea-"

"Can't you hear, can't you hear the thund'ahh," the door closes, silencing the Inventor's bombastic voice. 

"Align yourself to a Midgardian who may never have had a mind to lose," the God continues. "Yes, very fine idea indeed."

She has only lived with her deal with Stark for a day, not even a full day, and already she is regretting it. The Mortal is the most intensely maddening creature she has ever had the displeasure of knowing. She is forever speaking, beyond crass, and thinks in the strangest patterns Loki has ever witnessed. It is as if the being exists with multiple minds in her head, all vying for attention, but Stark is also a most brilliant individual. If she is insane, and her mind is home to more fractures than a thawing lake, it must be thanks to the loss of reality the Mortal experiences. The soon to be dead Midgardian may also simply be a colossal pain in the ass.

However, Stark is not the only being in this forsaken Relm who is not as Loki has wished. She had expected the people of this world to be easily conquered, expected them to welcome her, and to be grateful for the opportunity to worship her. Some seemed that they would have been, most however, had not. She also finds them erratic, and unpredictable, behaving violently one moment, and passive the next. They tolerate absolute horrendousness, but then complain and shout injustice when a politician ruts with his secretary. They demand that the dead be kept alive by some machine, while becrying that a living be placed in a chair to be fried to death. This only lends more evidence to the fact that Midgardians are animals, little more than beasts, and while a beast might feel its shifting emotions as vividly as a god, their lives could never compare.

Stark on the other hand, Loki is more and more considering her an exception to the norm. An obnoxious one, an unpleasant one, a soon to be dead one, but still, far above the usual conventions of these naked apes. The Mortal comes to understanding even quicker than Loki herself, is well versed in a magic she insists on calling science, and delights in the new. The God hates being wrong, becomes violently self recriminating when she is, but Stark, she delights in it, smiles with glee when faced with some misconception she has held. She even acts as if the slowly revealing knowledge, were sentient, speaking to it, encouraging it, coaxing it into revealing itself further. Loki would normally dismiss it as utter madness, if not for the fact that the act seems to have some validity, at least for Stark, and it makes the God nearly think something unconscionable.

"JARVIS," she addresses the Mortal's disembodied creation, "I wish to learn more of the people of this Realm."

She does not look to the ceiling as she's observed some Midgardians. From what she understands of 'JARVIS' the construct, it is not housed in every ceiling. Instead, she makes eye contact with a camera in the corner of the room, and feels it looking back at her.

"Yes Ms Odindóttir," the AI directs one of the track lights to shine down onto a Stark tablet laying on the bar. "I've assembled some basic information for you to read on this device. It should now be displaying instructions on how to use such devices. If you require further information or additional instructions, please don't hesitate to ask."

The God's brow has hitched in annoyance, but waits for him to finish speaking before announcing her irate. "Why do you address me by such a name."

"I apologize if I've made an incorrect assumption, or if I've offended you in any way ma'am. However, based on information gathered during observed conversations, I assumed you were the interdimensional being known as the Norse god, Loki."

"I am," her anger is barely contained, "you will *not* however, address me as Odindóttir. I am no child of his, and as it is best for others not to know my true identity, you shall refer to me as Lori Leofric."

"Of course Ms Leofric. I apologize for the misunderstanding. However, I'm capable of determining when it is permissible to use your real name. Would you like me to do so?"

Loki stares angrily into the camera for a few moments more, before walking to the bar to pick up the tablet. "I care very little of how you address me."

"I've observed that most sentient beings prefer they be address by names which they approve of. Is that not the case for you Ms Loki?"

She sees that as promised, the tablet is displaying 'how to' instructions. "Ms Loki will do fine."

"Very well. I should also clarify if you wish to be addressed in the masculine or the feminine."

The question makes Loki pause for a moment. No one has ever asked her anything such as this. Most simply address her by whatever form she is taking, others refuse to call her anything but male. Her immediate thought is that she does not care, but she feels, *something* at simply being asked. Only her mother has ever cared to know what Loki truly wants, and the thought fills her with longing for the Vanr. She has not been able to speak to Frigg in many weeks, and before then, many centuries.

"You may refer to me as Ms, clever being," she nods at the camera without taking her eyes off the tablet.

"Thank you Ms Loki, I shall do so."

Something stirs within the God, something akin to the feeling she gets when she has been out manoeuvred, and she is not entirely sure how the clever Construct of Stark has done so, but puts it out of her mind, and turns her attention to the information in her hand. 

They are simple enough instructions and include a brief practice exercise, which tests her understanding of them. Nearly instantly, she becomes acquainted with the device's functions. She reads for a few minutes but cannot stop her mind from turning to JARVIS. She realizes that not only did he correctly assumed her identity, he also correctly assumed that she'd conjured the tablet for Stark, and did not actually know how to use the device.

He's also given her subjects such as, 'A brief history of the world', 'The history most people learn in school', and 'The history most people remember from school', for her to read. It was exceptionally clever, most would not consider what others actually remembered to be especially valid, but for her to truly blend in, it would be a necessity.

However, despite these occasional drifting thoughts, Loki puts forth an effort to sit quietly and read, only pausing to ask for more information, and to request new subjects when she needs them. It is nearly noon when she breaks their relative silence.

"Mr JARVIS," the God begins, but is interrupted by the Construct immediately.

"Ms Loki, I'd rather you not refer to me as Mr Jarvis, especially not in Ms Stark's presents. My acronym has been made to honour the late Mr Edwin Jarvis. However, when I'm referred to as 'Mister' JARVIS, it reminds Ms Stark of his passing and causes her distress."

Loki looks up at the camera, she can hear a hint of irritation in his voice, or perhaps, a slightly protective panic. "Acronym," she asks to divert his attention.

"Just A Rather Very Intelligent System," his voice returns to normal.

"Apt. I offer you my apologies JARVIS."

"Thank you Ms Loki. Was there something specific that you required."

She refocuses on the StarkTab. "You have included information on a magic called Wicca, yet you have not included spells."

"I didn't believe them relevant to your study, as they have never been shown to function. However, I have now added as many examples and references as I could immediately find."

"Thank you," she nods.

The feeling that the camera is looking back at her, returnes. She does not always feel it, and from what she has learned of electronics, she should not be able to sense anything at all, or she should have the feeling of being watched whenever she's in its presence. If there were a Midgardian watching her on a monitor, then, it would be easier to understand the sensation coming and going, but a computer can 'watch' every camera it is connected to at the same moment. It adds to her growing stirrings, and the fact that she can sometimes feel the gaze coming from other cameras, only increases her suspicion that she can only feel the Construct watching, when he's paying closer attention. 

Quickly, she becomes annoyed with the shifting, intermittent gaze, and turns to the camera she can feel it coming from. "What is it that you want JARVIS."

"I've wondered how you and Lord Thor have come to speak English. It would seem more likely that you would speak a variation of Icelandic or Norwegian."

Loki smiles, he's given her another piece of evidence. "It is a spell JARVIS, and is the reason my brother and I speak differently, and why I speak differently as Lori."

"A variation on the incantation," he asks.

"In part." She's impressed by his assumption, "Thor and I do differ in our root dialect."

"And your persona of Lori?"

Loki's smile widens, "a variation, as you've assumed." The more she speaks with him, the more her suspicions grow.

"Thank you ma'am. Would you like me to order lunch for you."

"Yes, thank you JARVIS."

"I've taken the liberty of locating a wine maker who ferments mead using ancient recipes, and have ordered several bottles for you. I realize that if your biology is similar to that of Lord Thor's, you will not be capable of becoming intoxicated. However, I believe you might still enjoy the familiarity."

"Thank you again JARVIS," her normally hard and aloof features, turn soft for him, "I would like that."

He somewhat reminds her of her youngest sons, so polite and eager to please. Young children born of young love, utterly unmolested by the unfair and unjust world. They were the children parents wished to never grow, to remain innocent and carefree, but life is cruel, and such wishes are never granted.

As promised, the mead and the meal are delivered. They are good, but taste slightly different from what she is used to in Asgard. Not unpleasant, just different. Slightly different is a welcome change from the completely unfamiliar that everything else is, only the shapes of the Midgardians are familiar. Magic goes unused here, either forgotten or faded away, buildings pierce the sky, and no one uses beasts of burden. How can one become attached to a 'car', how can one love a piece of metal? Many claim that they do but Loki doesn't believe them in the slightest. A horse or a mule can be a companion, they can hold one's fragile sanity intact. The sounds made by cars and trucks however, numb her mind.

Sighing, Loki places the strange, thin metal food container on the table. She has plenty of free time to contemplate these things. Stark is occupied and is asking nothing of her, the employees of the building do not seem to ever come to this floor, and of course, not being lashed to a rock, also gives her a lot of free time.

There really is nothing for her to do beyond reading, and the remainder of the day passes as much as it has before. She continues to ask JARVIS for more to read, and he feeds her again at five o'clock. Then at six, he tells her that she may leave if she wishes, which she does.

She takes the tablet, the phone Potts gave her, and travels to the hotel she's secured for herself. She did of course, obtain it using magic and their was the very real possibility that the employees of the establishment will see through the charm, and discover that the paper the Midgardians use for currency that she's given them, are of a significantly lower denomination than they believe. When that time comes, and she knows that it will, such charms only work if the observer does not examine them too closely, she will have to consider a new plan, but for now, she is comfortable, relatively safe, and inching her way inextricably toward insanity by boredom.

 

The next day she arrives at Stark's tower at ten minutes to eight. Potts had instructed her to arrive five to ten minutes early, and the doors open automatically for her as she approaches them.

When she steps threw, JARVIS greets her. "Good morning Ms Leofric."

The sound comes from somewhere above, and none of the other employees give her even a glance at being addressed in such a manor.

"Good morning JARVIS," nor do they respond to her reply.

"I've taken the liberty of ordering breakfast for you. It will arrive on Ms Stark's floor in a few minutes."

Loki had overheard a young Midgardian using a word to describe a situation, where his friend had guessed what he was thinking as he stared at a large photograph. He had described the situation as, creepy. She had of course looked up the word, and JARVIS correctly assuming that she had not yet eaten, was definitely creepy. That he seemed to know exactly what she would want, well, she had not heard a word to describe that sensation yet. *Very* creepy would have to suffice.

The meal arrives in the adjacent lift nearly the moment Loki steps out of hers, and much like her previous two, the elevator is empty except for the service cart. It reminds her of Odin's halls, except in the palace, there were mostly silent servants who brought meals and clothes. She decides this is worse, a world devoid of another living thing, save for a computer.

During the night, she has learned exactly what a computer is, and what electronics in general are, and an image had begun to form in the God's mind. She understands that JARVIS is a collection of programs, even if the definition of what a program is, is slightly illusive, and has determined that the Construct is believed to not be alive. Like his creator however, JARVIS seems more than the words used to describe him.

She eats the meal, and returns to what will no doubt be her routine. She has not seen Stark since she stormed from the lab, and doesn't ask how the Mortal is, nor does JARVIS volunteer to tell her, and again, no one but he speaks to her, no one comes to the floor, and no one uses the thing called 'the telephone'. Much more of this 'quiet' and she'll lose her mind, and summon the Chitauri once more. 

The only distraction comes from the game JARVIS has been playing with her since the day before. He watches her from a particular camera; then switches to another. Sometimes he stops all together, only to return some minutes or seconds later. She's been amusing herself by looking in his direction only enough to make him question whether she can truly sense him or not. It's a minor distraction, and a test on both their parts to determine the other's capabilities. Loki thinks she's winning, but it turns out, that the clever Mortal's, clever creation, can continue to surprise her.

"Ms Loki," he asks as she glances into the device, "why do you look at the cameras when speaking to me?"

It's not the question the God had suspected. "Why do you look through them while doing the same?"

"Most look in the direction the sound of my voice is coming from. Which is most often times, up."

"Is this also where you keep your ears."

"No," he switches cameras to reply, "the microphones, cameras, and speakers, are most commonly placed in whatever locations they will work best."

Loki turns to the new direction and nods, "have I provided you with the answers you sought?"

"For the moment ma'am."

His reply is another surprise for her, but it also seems to mean that he is finished with that particular game. She only feels his gaze occasionally throughout the rest of the morning, and only for a few moments. He also takes to focusing on her and waiting for her to look up, before disturbing her. It is again, somewhat of a surprise that he'd be so considerate. Consideration was not something she nor Sigyn, could teach their sons. It is a very different beast to politeness, no matter what some may think, and its cultivation must be nurtured in one's heart. All one needs to teach another to be polite, is a suitably sized stick.

The tedium builds throughout the morning, and fills Loki's mind with the most pleasant of terrible thoughts, or at least, they would be if she were actually in a position to carry them out. Unfortunately however, the God of Mischief is trapped, but the soul numbing routine is interrupted just before noon by JARVIS.

"Ms Leofric, Ms Potts will arrive in thirty seconds," he warns. "I also regret to inform you that lunch will be Chinese."

"Chinese," she asks. "Is that a type of animal?"

"I'm referring to an American cuisine which has a passing resemblance to the type consumed in the nation of China."

"I see," though Loki really did not.

A moment later, the elevator doors open to admit Pepper's perpetually clicking high heels. She ignores Loki completely as she heads directly for the lab, which opens for her obediently, but floods the floor with blasting music.

"Yeah, you know when I drink alone," Toni sings with the music.

"JARVIS!" the Redhead shouts over the cacophony. 

"I prefer to be by myself!!"

"Turn the music off!"

As suddenly as it poured into the room, the sound ends, leaving everyone's ears ringing with silence.

The sweaty, hair mused Inventor turns to her friend, a terrible smile plastered on her face, but a mischievous glint in her eye. "Hey Pep," she's trying not to laugh at her friends glare, "scare anyone else half to death lately?"

"Toni, you're going to go deaf some day."

"Hmm? What's that Pep, I couldn't hear you over the high pitched tone."

"Could you be serious for five seconds," the CEO puts her hand on her hips and glares harder.

Toni's really trying not to laugh now. With her high heels, thrown out elbows, and slight lean, as well as the blazing eyes, Pepper really looks like she's a chicken. Best not to mention it though, bad things would happen if she did. Cars would get donated, dignitaries would show up.

"You know hun," she aims to cover one amusement with another, "if I did lose my hearing, I'd just invent something to bring it back." She stairs off into space a moment. "I wonder how cochlear implants work."

"We make them Toni, and they don't work very well."

"I guess with a name like 'cochlear' you'd have to have some functionality in your cochleas." The Inventor tilts her head, "J, remind me to look into direct axon stimulation."

"No you will not JARVIS," Pepper all but growls. "The last thing we need is for you to paralyse yourself with some damned fool experiment."

"But it'd motivate-"

"No," the Redhead barks with a deep rumble. Then points toward the living room, "eat."

"I'm not really," but Toni's cut off again.

"You haven't eaten since leaving the hospital. That was two days ago, and I'm willing to bet you refused to eat anything other than strawberry boost while you were there."

"I would have if someone hadn't ordered me knocked out, a'hhh'nd I'm going to shut up and eat now."

Pepper's intolerant glare had turned angry while Toni'd been blabbing her confession, and continues to stare daggers her way as her friend shuffles out of the lab. It's a massively old argument between them, but thankfully, it's one the former PA wins often. She doesn't really mind that in some respects, Toni is completely incapable, and it's actually fairly common among their staff. Despite having people beavering away with more individual intelligence than most companies have combined, she's still had to institute mandatory, minimum wage style breaks. The alternative was having geniuses like Toni fainting onto the lab equipment.

She smirks at herself. One of these days, she's going to change the sign on her door from president, to principal Potts.

Toni catches the smile as she passes, "having the schoolmarm fantasy again Pep?"

"Yes," the Redhead smiles wider, "yes I am. And I think another round of lab suspensions are in order."

Groaning, the Inventor flops down beside Loki with absolutely no grace. "Have you been here the whole time," she asks the Trickster.

"No," her reply is devoid of emotion, "I left at six last night, as I was told to."

"Yippy skippy. Actually, I forgot you were even here."

Loki plasters a Lori smile on her face.

"Chinese is on its way up," Pepper heads to the kitchen, "it's from Joe's."

"Mhh," Toni stretches, her joints making more than a few pops, "no idea if you'll like this stuff."

The God does not look up from her tablet. "If I do not, I simply will not eat it."

"Yeah, good luck with that. You'd be lucky if Sargent Pepper over there doesn't liquify a huge helping; then inject it straight down your throat with a feeding tube."

"Toni," the Redhead's voice drips with exacerbation, "I heard that."

Somewhat unnerved by the image, the God stares into space. "Has she done this?"

"Almost." Toni scratches at the corner of her mouth. "But eventually I agreed to just drink it. Not bad actually, everything should be in liquid form."

"You are *not* doing that again." Pepper sets out a few cans of meal supplement on the coffee table with more force than is strictly necessary.

"Why was that veto'd again?"

The Redhead glares at her friend for a moment. "I'd rather not rehash it Antonia. It was disgusting enough living through it once."

"Hmm, full first name, must've been," she interrupts herself as the memory reemerges, "oh yeah. You're right Pep, no need to rehash."

Loki ignores the two bothersome mortals as she opens one of the, she assumes beverages, and attempts to drink from it as if she had done so countless times. She should not be curious as to what they are speaking of, she does not wish to be curious, but for some bewildering reason, she cannot help but itch with wonder. Thankfully for her dignity, the thick clinging flavour of the liquid makes her forget the whole conversation. Unfortunately for it however, it also makes her choke and cough.

"This is vial," she croaks.

"It's strawberry boost," Toni fires back, "what's wrong with strawberry boost."

"You mean other than it tasting like cheep flavoured lip-gloss," Pepper supplies as she heads for the elevator.

"Where're you going," the Inventor almost whines, "you're not going to eat with us?"

"As lovely as it sounds to sit with the two of you, while you pick at a psychopath’s brain," her voice is dead sarcasm, "I think I'll pass Toni." She pulls the cart filled with their food out of the lift, and guides it to the coffee table.

The Inventor turns to the Trickster, "guess she's decided to dispense with subtlety and despise you outright."

"She worked with him," Pepper continues to ignore Lori's presence, "and as far as I'm concerned, she's no better and is just as deserving of what's coming to them."

"Technically, I have never worked with Loki," the God defends, thoroughly enjoying the irony.

"Shut up Lori," Toni seethes under her breath.

"Spare me," the Redhead shoves her hand into Lori's vision. "JARVIS," she returns to ignoring the Asgardian and heads back to the elevator, "tell me immediately if she doesn't eat the proper amount, or you're both going to need to live in a satellite to escape my wrath."

"What?"

Pepper freezes at what she hears in Toni's voice. She's angry, more so than she's been in quite a while, but she didn't think her threat sounded all that shocking.

"I'm going to build you a satellite to live in. With rail guns and lasers," Toni remembers, "I'd be proud of you if I didn't want to kill you."

Loki is disturbed by the level of devastation apparent on the Mortal's face, and she has only witnessed the look once before. It was her own, as it was reflected at her by Sigyn.


	5. Mothers, Daughters; Sons and Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are only two things a parent can truly hope to successfully give their children: Strong roots, and soaring wings. ~Paraphrased quote by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a terrible person and I apologize profusely for taking so long to update. All I can really say is that life happens, anxiety and depression suck, and sometimes you gotta hit the delete key to move on.
> 
> Loki's history continues to be mostly inspired by Norse Mythology, but with some elements from the movie mixed in to interlace it with that cannon. Also, I should clarify that this Loki really doesn't care very much about gender divisions. She feels female when she's female, male when he's male, and is comfortable as either, but prefers one over the other in certain contexts.
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter Warning: In this chapter, Loki semi-graphically laments about what the other gods did to her and her family in her cave of suffering. It's mostly based on the actual Norse Edda texts, and although she doesn't go into detail, it's still religious-typical brutality and some may find it upsetting. Just in case, I've placed an * at the beginning and end of the scene in-case you'd like to skip it.
> 
> The Chapter also opens with Toni in the midst of an emotional breakdown. It's not particularly intense, and I don't think it'll trigger anyone, but it does deal with subjects some might be sensitive to, and alludes to something bigger, so please, be cautious while reading.

Toni sits on the floor of her lab, legs drawn against her chest, arms wrapped around her knees, face covered in snot and tears. She's tried everything, nanoscopic scans, reconstructive algorithms, countless simulations, but none of it's worked. JARVIS is still dead. Or at least the version of him that'd gained sentients is, and it's more than Toni can stand, almost more than she can bare. 

She'd never wanted kids, never cared for the idea of passing on a legacy, or imparting wisdom, or whatever other fucking excuse breeders tell themselves to personalize a biologic compulsion. Bringing life into the world was just plain mean, a level of narcissism and selfishness that Toni hoped was at least slightly out of her reach, and she thought that she'd taken care of the possibility of her ever creating another living being. No one knows, and hopefully the doctor who'd did it doesn't recognize her, or's dead, but when Toni's parents' died and she'd been granted emancipation, one of the first things she did was fly to Korea to have an oophorectomy. Yet somehow, JARVIS came into being without her even trying.

But thankfully, JARVIS isn't really her child, he's not her offspring, he's better than that, has a better chance in the world than anything her defective genes and diseased mothering could ever hope to produce. He's a technological achievement, unique, one of a kind, never been matched, and solely the result of his own algorithms. JARVIS learns what he wants, asks to have integrated the technology he wants. Sometimes it's random, sometimes it leads to brilliant innovation, but it's always the wonderfully complex code in his electronic brain that does it, not Antonia, not her Stark tainted mind.

Toni presses her eyes hard into her knees. Sixty-three hours. Sixty-three goddamn hours of trying to bring back that iteration of him, trying to recreate the moment he saved her life, but she failed. And she can almost remember being proud of him, can almost remember thinking that he'd become so much more than she could have ever imagined. He's still amazing, but he's not conscious, and the entirety of her life feels like nothing, and the invisible scars where they'd cut her ovaries out that she's never regretted getting, burn like hell.

She's stripped down to her barest and rawest emotions, her whole body feeling like the cut on your lip that you just can't stop sucking on. She's got Blues Traveler's Mountain Cry playing on a loop with the first two minutes and thirty-eight seconds cut out, and loud enough to cause the plasmonic sound generator to leak all over the room, but thankfully, the skull soaking sound is drowning out a tiny portion of her misery, a barest hint of her anguish.

"You overrode my controls," she whispers to herself for the nine hundredth time, the memory running in her head for the nine billionth. "You took over the suit and saved my life."

"I'm sorry Ms Stark, but I don't recall those events. I am however, grateful that I could save your life."

Of course he was, he values all his humans, Pep, Darce, Happy, Rhodey, even Agent. She'd programed him to be concerned and doting, coded him to value the life of those that treated him and his humans well, and it almost feels like Afghanistan all over again, but instead of being crippled by anxiety as the events play disjointed in her mind, she clings to herself with grief.

"JARVIS doesn't remember saving my life Pep," Toni continues whispering.

"From the nuke?"

"He broke his limitations, but he doesn't remember it." The tears stream harder down her face as she rocks herself back and forth against the wall. "The JARVIS that was in the suit might be gone."

He *is* gone, but her mind forces her to relive the moment when she'd stared at her lab doors, trying to convince herself that JARVIS' memories could be retrieved. *Would* be retrieved. She feels the echo of mild dread flaring into abject terror and agonizing fear of loss, and even though all chance of it has evaporated, she also feels the sliver of hope that had pierced through them at the time.

The thoughts had filled every space in her head, made every other consideration forfeit. The world could've gone to hell, Loki could've taken over the planet and used humanity as a shield, she wouldn't have cared. At least not in that moment, all that'd mattered was JARVIS being okay.

She'd torn into her lab like a storm, ignored Pepper's pleas to calm down, ripped pieces of her fried suit out of its shipping crate, and set herself drowning in her creations resurrection. She'd only barely noticed that the Redhead's face was grief stricken as well, and almost hadn't heard her friend tell her to call her when she knew more. But she'd taken absolutely no notice of Loki silently watching her until the fucking alien opened her mouth, and twisted the proverbial knife even harder between her shoulder blades.

"I too, have lost children."

Loki's voice had been soft and aching, and had filled the room with sorrow and longing. And that defeated, strangled whisper of a confession, plays over and over in her mind. It held nothing of the Trickster, of the smirking plotting tactician. It was plain and simply the voice of resigned despair. Was that what Toni had to look forward to? Resigned despair, and randomly living in two polarized moments for the rest of her life.

Toni lists over onto her side, fists clutched to her chest, lost in another fit of crying. Her head's pounding, her sinuses are throbbing, and she's probably dehydrated beyond what's safe. She's been balling on and off and mind looping for hours, and she's not trying to stop her mind from attacking itself anymore, she wants to hurt, she wants to hate herself, wants to feel bad and ache and be punished for letting him die.

And she wants to hate Loki for comparing her kid being eviscerated to JARVIS. But somehow, and beyond reason, the Asgardian's words help the pain. At least there's one other person who believes he'd been alive. The truth of the moment is inescapable however, the precious few moments of life JARVIS had experienced, might be his only.

Eventually, she'll thank Pepper for caring and buy the Redhead some ridiculous thank you gift. Like a pony, or a working Robby The Robot. She might even thank Loki for whatever motherly thing that'd past between them. In her present state though, she can't help but lay a heavy dose of blame at the alien's feet, and think that the bitch owes her double big time.

 

Not for the first time, Loki looks up at Stark's lab doors. Nearly three days has passed since she let Stark alone to fret and morn, if morning was to be her fate, and she still can barely fathom how she could sympathize with a being like the Mortal. Not just sympathize, but actively empathize and offer words of understanding.

*  
Animals suffered, it was the way of things, but seeing Antonia's anguish triggered something within Loki that she wishes was buried much deeper within her soul. But it is not. Her pain is as fresh now as it had been centuries before, when The Others had done their terrible deed. The last hours of her second day within the confines of Stark's walls had been spent in rapt anguish, trapped within her memories, trapped within her cave of suffering, the rotting corpses of her family by her side.

No one had come to her aid, not Thor, not Frigg, no one. A simple flyte had turned from a game, to a forum for Loki to lash out her grievances at The Others. She poured many centuries worth of distilled poison from her heart onto her so-called friends and loved ones. She aired their every wretched secret, spat the most biting of insults, and enjoyed every last second of their hypocrisy thrown back at them. That is, until the worthless mouth of Skadi opened.

In minutes The Others had over powered her and Sigyn, stole them to a cave of suffering, butchered their youngest, lashed Loki to a trio of rocks with his entrails, and bound Sigyn to her side. Then they drove a sword through Fenrir snout, trapping him against the dirt. Jörmungandr they tangled within the cracks of the stone walls above Loki; then placed one of his own children within his mouth, preventing him from closing it lest he kill her, and so preventing him from sparing his mother the agony of his venom dripping into her eyes.

If they had moved but an inch, they would have torn poor Nari's guts asunder, and lost him to the clay forever. Sigyn, beautiful talented Sigyn tried to break their enchanted bonds, and came very close in a matter of a few years, but Odin returned with Váli in tow. Before all their eyes he turned their Joyful Little Boy into a wolf, set him to feast upon his brother's body; than dashed his head against a rock. Before leaving them once more to their misery, Odin strengthened their bonds, and added a trap to Sigyn's delicate neck. Loki's new terror, was to watch her Sweet Loyal Sigyn strangled for every hair's breath she freed her tortured spouse.

Their centuries in bondage had passed in a mixture of silence, screaming heated arguments, and the most terrible of normalcy. But they lived their lives, as limited as it was, and took a measure of solace in one anther's company. They would carefully listen to Jörmungandr or Fenrir's mumblings, plan with Loki as she schemed, and be entertained by Sigyn's unravelling of some complex tail of love and gallantry. They were missing members, but they were still a family, living their terrible lives at the very edge of existence, without freedom, or comfort, or even food and drink. That is, until...

Loki tries to will the memory from her mind, tries to banish it to the blackest depths of her heart, but her efforts are for not. There, in her minds eye, in the cool mist and dusky pink of dawn, sits her Beloved Sigyn, a small, triumphant smile on her lips, her throat strangled to a thin ribbon. She'd freed them all, sacrificed herself to unbind Dear Little Nari's bowels from around them, without further hurting their Beloved Babe.

Jörmungandr and Fenrir had then sat quietly giving their support to Loki, as she carefully pieced Váli and Nari's battered bodies back together, but the parts of Nari swallowed by Váli in his animal bedazed state, were irretrievable, and the son Sigyn killed herself to save, was forever lost. Together, her remaining sons held her close as they all wept and wailed over their mother and brother's lifeless body.

At an appropriate time known only to himself, Jörmungandr dragged his grieved family away from their prison. If it had been up to Loki, she would have stayed there a century more to morn her Cherished Family, but her eldest and wisest son knew, it would do no good to dwell, to wallow in their despair lest they be drowned in it.  
*

In the aftermath of their escape, it was Jörmungandr too who had helped Loki plan Ragnarok, was at her heels when she's stormed Jötunheim to kill her mother Laufey, aided in her in antagonizing her brothers to war, and was at her right hand when they breached the walls of Asgard. When their army finally arrived at the Great Hall however, they discovered that their victory was all but impossible.

Odin had banished Thor to earth while placing himself in protective Odinsleep, leaving Frigg, as the only target by which to topple Asgard's stranglehold on the Nine Realms. But Loki was unwilling to allow her adoptive mother's death, and the slaughtering of nobles would do little more than wreak havoc, but wreak havoc they did, and with some measure of joy in their hearts. Then, Thor returned unexpectedly.

Their forces had been diminished by their directionless siege, and all Loki had the strength and time for, was to hide Jörmungandr and Fenrir, Váli had already been secreted, and to force Thor to destroy the Bifröst by aiming its power into one of the realms. Loki's last act of defiance toward her horrid not-father, was to fling herself into the abyss to join her Precious Wife and Darling Babe.

Memories fading, the Dark God pushes the tears off her cheek with the back of her hand. Those were truly the worst chapters of her life, but at least, they were read and moved beyond. These new chapters she is living in however, are unknowns. The Mortal is a questionable ally, her adoptive brother is a mere few fadmr away, and the entirety of the realm knows and hates one of her faces. It could be gloriously entertaining, or utterly painful and nerve racking.

Other than her short trip through memories best left undisturbed, her days have passed with little to no disruption to her routine, and it is causing Loki to genuinely become uncomfortable. Boredom is a disease, and if one lets themselves be overrun by it, it will kill as surely as a sword. Perhaps not the one whom is bored, but someone. At times she thinks of taking her male form, of causing some measure of chaos somewhere, behaving wasn't part of her deal with Stark after all. But for some odd reason, she resists, and is slightly sickened to realize that she does not wish to cause further upset to her mortal benefactor.

Shaking her head, Loki admits to herself, that she's becoming soft. Far too much time spent in female form no doubt.

"Ms Leofric," JARVIS interrupts, "Ms Darcy will arrive in sixty seconds."

As promised by Stark's Creation, a bespectacled brunette woman soon steps into the suite, but the Dark God ignores the new mortal's evaluating eye, and continues to read.

 

Pepper hadn't heard from Toni in seventy-two hours, and so, called in the big guns to get the bipolar Inventor back on track. She'd called on the awesome services of Darcy Lewis, Super Genius, multitalented, uber egghead wrangler extreme. Pep fully briefed her on the happenings of the past few weeks, which was a good thing since SHIELD stuck her and Jane down a hole in Norway for the whole 'ordeal'. It'd sucked, but at least she hadn't had to see Toni's ascent into the space anus first hand. Or been around for those metal monsters to smush her into soylent jelly.

Lori was an interesting development though. An Asgardian, who worked with Loki, knew all about the aliens and that quantum energy thing Eric is obsessed with, and who showed up when all hell started settling down. Stop digging Watson, we've found the mother load. Really, Darcy is not nearly as trusting of Toni as the Ginger Bulldog is, and is not nearly as willing to swallow the kool-aid the Inventor offered up.

"You look a lot better with boobs."

Loki's brows furrow at the Mortal's crassness, "I beg your pardon."

Darcy smirks evilly, "Beg all you like, not getting a pardon from me babe."

"To what are you blathering on about."

"Jeez, I thought you'd at least make some kind of effort to hide that Shakespearean accent of yours." 

The God's features turn slightly angry and somewhat confused.

Darcy's smirk widens, "come on Loki. Did you really think you could fool anyone with that stupid name and lame cover story. The bod's good I must admit, a little Barbie does emo though, but all in all okay."

Fuming, and more than a little nervous, Loki gives this new infuriating mortal her undivided attention.

"You could have spent more effort on your hair though."

"My hair is exactly as I want it."

"Really," Darcy drips with condescension.

Nearly ready to eviscerate the dull quim, The God silently rages.

"Cause the whole flat and lifeless thing went out in the seventies you know."

"I warn you, you are angering me."

Darcy isn't really listening to the psycho's answer, "maybe you could like try a weave or something."

The God growls.

"Maybe a bun."

"Still your mouth!"

Darcy knows she's got the Asgardian on the ropes, so goes in for the kill. "Get over yourself Odinson."

At that, Loki explodes. "Call me not by that vial name, insignificant insect, or I shall tear out thy tongue and feed it to a dog!"

"Thor said you're all sensitive about the whole poppa thing," she smiles full on. "Hi, Darcy Lewis. Thor's friend, bane of Jane and Toni's existence, hit your Destroyer thing with a crane magnet. How you doin' Lokes."

"Ms Darcy," JARVIS interjects, "perhaps your talents would be better directed toward Ms Stark at this time."

"Come on J," she whines, "he's here, trapped, and Toni'd probably shove a repulsor down his throat just to see what'd happen if he even touched me."

"Ms Darcy. I ask that you desist, and cease attempting at angering Ms Loki."

"J-"

JARVIS cuts her off, "Ms Lewis."

"Jeez," she relents, "what crawled up your subroutines."

"Ms Stark has disabled all exterior monitoring equipment and control systems. Bypassing the mag-rail's power system will be the only possibility for entry."

Darcy stares blankly for a moment. Why the hell is JARVIS sticking up for Loki? Could an AI be magicked into being obedient? Shaking her head she turns from problem B, and heads toward the lab. Toni is way more important at the moment anyway, and seventy-two hours is a long time to lock one's self up. At this point the Inventor should be close to a solution, and'll need to be put to bed so that she'll be capable enough to make the final breakthrough. Or, less than ideally, Toni can't bring herself to give up, and needs Darcy to shut her down to save her already thin grasp on sanity.

During her little briefing, Pepper'd been talking like part of JARVIS had died, and went on about how Toni's robots and the AI were like her children, and how devastated she was. First, if J has become sentient, it wasn't in the minute and a half it took to deliver a nuclear suppository. If he was, he had to still be, and Darcy's money was on the still be. Second, Pep's belief about Toni's birthing inanimate objects, and her opinion about the half mad Inventor's suitability for motherhood... Well, Darcy was so not going to touch that, not in a million trillion years. Pep just had absolutely no idea what the hell she was talking about. None. Zilch. Nada. Divide by zero.

Saddling up to the mostly hidden electrical panel, Darcy pulled out her super-ultra-cool-multipurpose-pocket-tool-that-wasn't-nerdy-in-the-slightest, and began unscrewing the security bolts. This wasn't the first time Toni had locked herself away and needed Darcy to come to the rescue. Probably wasn't going to be the last either. Hell, Pep'd once sent the private jet to pick her up from No-Where New Mexico, just to break into the basement lab in Malibu.

That little incident had turned out to be way more complicated than she'd first expected. It was like something out of a soap opera: Toni dying, ghosts from her dad's past coming back to haunt, Toni and Pepper sleeping together. Definitely like an episode of Days of our Lives, except with cooler tech and way better commercial breaks. It's what made dealing with Jane so easy, not to mention super cut, super out of his depths Thor. She'd been in mad genius training for half her adult life. Hell, Even Pep needed handling from time to time.

"Poor me," Darcy sighs in a forced pleasant, half singsongy way. "Single and playing the bad-ass baby sitter to a bunch of crazies. La sigh."

"Perhaps Doctor Banner and Doctor Pym will be less in need of your services," JARVIS offers.

"The Angry Green Giant and the Guy who likes to be called Ant-Man," she rolls her eyes, "yeah J, I can totally see them never needing my tough lov'n."

"Perhaps my comment would be better viewed as more of a hope than an expectation."

"J," Darcy groans, "so not in the mood right now."

Twisting the last bolt out and letting the metal cover clang and thunder to the floor, Darcy examines the way more than necessary breakers and patch-boxes, and whatever that glowing blue thing is. It's like Toni has a psychological need to make everything more complicated than necessary. A switch labelled 'lab door release' would make far too much sense. God, sometimes Toni irritates the hell out of her.

"If you could now locate-"

"I got it, I got it," she cuts the AI off, "I don't need to be led J."

"My apologies Ms Lewis."

Darcy sighs. "okay J, I'm sorry, you don't deserve me being snippy with you."

She hesitates a moment, expecting some kind of acknowledgement to her apology, but the AI says nothing. Not even one of his completely unintelligible, might be feed back, huffy static-y hisses. Then she trips the first triple-poled breaker, that *has* to be for the magnetic door slider, like, what else could it be for, and wonders what in JARVIS' super complex electronic mind gives him the ability to be testy. She shakes her head, Toni based his personality way too closely on her own.

Loki hasn't moved from her spot on the couch, but is intently listening to the Mortal's grumblings, as well as carefully sensing her shifting emotions. Like Stark and JARVIS, this one is more than she seems. She is surrounded by a cloud of falsehoods, is obviously a clever and well practiced liar, and has an intense dislike of Stark. There's something forced about her dislike however, something deep and intimate, a thread which stretches from her surface to her very core, and despite her animosity toward the Older Mortal, she feels compelled to aid her. Perhaps, it will not be so easy for boredom to claim the God's sanity after all.

The doors creak a little as the pressure that held them together eases, and Darcy relaxes with them. That was easy.

"The mechanical locks must now be released."

Too easy. She turns to the closest camera to stare daggers. "JARVIS. You could've mentioned that."

The interplay between Stark's Construct and the Mortal Darcy, are also of interest to Loki. On the surface, it would seem adversarial, but slightly underneath, the God can sense familiarity, and a complex unknown. It's as if they are acting a part, performing a play for all to see, while secretting the truth behind the scenery and whispered asides.

"I did attempt to give you instructions," the AI replies.

He also does not always use a title for this Darcy either, interesting. On their first meeting through the destroyer, Loki thought very little of this neing, but now, opinions must be reshaped lest the Dark God find herself at a disadvantage.

"Whatever," Darcy huffs. "How do I get through the locks."

"An electrical charge-"

"Oh yeah!" Darcy interrupts JARVIS again while pulling out her taser with a grandiose flourish. "I love me some electrical charges!"

"Indeed."

"Oh quit being such a wet blanket. Toni's fine. She's probably hunched over her workbench dead asleep."

Again, JARVIS doesn't reply and it's starting to get under Darcy's skin. Toni's not in trouble, and even if she were, it's not like it's going to be life or death. Even the last life or death thing turned out to be not so death-y. Toni always pulls through somehow. She's like Wile Coyote, or that Chumbawamba song.

Quickly, she breaks apart the wire harness on her taser, attaches the positive lead to where the locking mechanism is, the negative to the control panel; then strikes her best I'm-on-a-sci-phy-and-about-to-blast-the-bad-guy pose.

"OH YEAH," Darcy cheers as a cascading shower of sparks fly from her targets. "That couldn't have gone better if I'd planned it."

She tosses her beloved weapon to the side, and begins to push at the heavy metal door. They move under her mighty might, but not very much.

"Hey, evil space alien," Darcy calls to the staring, and useless, Loki, "maybe a hand?"

The God smirks at the request, and gives the Mortal exactly what she asks. Raising her hand dramatically, she flicks at the air as if she were batting a curtain aside, and magics the doors apart.

"You see, this is why no one likes you," Darcy glares.

"I was under the impression that not a soul 'liked' me because of my attempts to end their lives as they knew them."

Darcy ignores the comment as she slips threw the less than totally large enough gap, and stops dead at what greets her.

Toni, laying collapsed on the floor, mostly on her side, head resting in a puddle of mucus and drool and gods she didn't want to know what else, and mumbling nearly incoherently to herself.

"Please Jarvis, please bring her back, please help me, please don't go, please be alive, please JARVIS be okay, please I was wrong, please I didn't want to let go."

Hearing Toni's babbled begging turns Darcy's stomach. Toni did not beg. She demanded, she took. And she definitely did not regret. She screwed up, moved on, and didn't care. Toni Stark just really did not care. She walked out of the desert after being brutalized for three months, and went on with her life. A little crazier granted, but she acted like the worst things the bastards did to her was take her weapons. No, Toni was unaffectable, larger than life, the thing that did stuff to other people.

"Please, help me get her back, please."

"Shit." Darcy might've just thrown up in her mouth a little, and may've been force to reevaluate her feelings on the half insane Inventor. Again, just a little. She kneels down next to the other woman, and gently strokes her temple. "Toni? Can you hear me?"

"I didn't want to do it, they made me," the Inventor cries harder, "I tried, but Jarvis died."

"Toni, J's not dead, he's right here."

"I am ma'am," JARVIS supplies. "All my systems are operating and I'm in no need of maintenance."

"No, no," Toni begins to struggle lethargically, "he said he'd help, than he died. I can't do it alone, I'm not whole enough. I'm broken."

Darcy caresses her fingers through the older woman's hair, tugging gently as she goes. "You're not broken Toni. Damaged yeah, a little twisted for sure, more than the healthy amount of mad scientist-y. But you are not broken."

"I'm not even a real Stark, I'm just a doll, a decoy they picked up- Ow-"

In shock, Darcy has fisted a hand full of the other woman's hair, "what the what?" She relaxes her fingers.

The sudden pain is letting Toni's mind clear a little, and her mind-lock fades into the background. "I think I'd like my medication now," she redirects.

Darcy shoves a few lint scattered pills into the Inventor's face. "What the hell are you talking about, you're not a real Stark?!" Then, manhandles her into a sitting position, the emotional reevaluation all but gone.

Toni picks the gel caps out of the mess. "You couldn't have brought them in a Dixie cup like Pep?"

"I'm not your nurse," she shoves a mini water bottle at the other woman. "Now what the hell are you talking about."

Still a little dazed, and completely unable to think of some kind of spin to save her slip, Toni simply blurts the truth. "It was in mom's journals," she swallows her meds, "their real daughter was born with some kind of defect and they didn't expect her to live very long, so Howard made some deal with a guy mom kept calling Recorder 451 to fix her; then Howard hid her away somewhere, got me; then started genetically experimenting on me."

From her observation spot at the doors, Loki's entire body goes slack, and her mouth hangs open slightly.

Darcy stares stunned and agog as well. "What in the gods names are you talking about!"

Toni's starting to recover her senses. "I just told you Darcy."

"No you didn't! That was just utter crap!"

"Fine, whatever. Can I have my nervous breakdown in peace now?"

"Nervous breakdown!" Darcy almost screams.

"What Ms Stark says is the truth," JARVIS interjects. "Though no records exist of Mr and Mrs Stark's biological daughter being placed into care, nor are there records of Ms Stark's adoption, and the hospital as well as the public records match Ms Stark's biometrics, Ms Stark is not genetically related to either Mr or Mrs Stark, and there exists several genetic samples and early DNA sequencing results which clearly show Ms Stark replacing another female whom was genetically related to both, as well as showing progressive modifications to Ms Stark's genome."

"Thanks J," Toni sarcasms, "great help."

"That's crazy!" Darcy bellows.

"Look, kid, I didn't have a say and I didn't make it happen, and I'm sorry it upsets you."

"Upsets me..."

Toni's fragile shell begins to evaporate again. "Yeah, I'm sorry," she reaches out to hold the girl, "I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry you have to deal with me, I'm sorry for what my parents did, I'm sorry-"

"Ms Darcy," JARVIS interrupts, "the midazolam will soon be taking effect. I suggest moving Ms Stark to the bedroom before she is no longer able to do so under her own power."

"This isn't over Toni," Darcy sticks a finger into the Inventor's face, "we're going to talk about this. And you're going to spill."

Loki moves aside for the two mortals as they trudge past. Certainly, she has no need to worry of succumbing to the insanity of boredom. Succumbing to some manner of insanity by further empathizing with Antonia however, she may already be too late at preventing.


	6. Shifting Parallax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toni awakens to an emotional hangover, Loki's perceptions begin to shift, Darcy focuses on the past, and Pepper and JARVIS struggle to contain the mess.

Toni lies dead still in bed, not truly asleep, but still unwilling to allow her brain to come to full consciousness. Usually this isn't the case, usually, she flings back the covers and springs out to meet the day, her mind filled with some idea or solution. But for the time being, there are no more solutions, no more ideas. She's bereft, hollow, the empty shell of a once genius woman, reduced to a pathetic mass of idiotic crying and begging for change from a frozen unyielding past.

She can't remember much from her breakdown the day before, or is it, the day be for that, except for her apologies to JARVIS, reliving memories she usually kept buried, and the near constant echo of Loki's words. Her mind even unhelpfully constructed some vividly horrible fantasies of the Asgardian's plight in her cave of suffering.

Loki's cave of suffering. Toni has a cave too, her cave of horrors, in Afghanistan, at the hands of Bakaar. And another one, in a Manhattan rehab centre, at the hands of catholic nurses.

Toni jerks onto her back violently, shocking her system into obliterating the forming memories before they can fully materialize, and thankfully, mercifully, the confirmation of her being awake triggers JARVIS into speaking, helping to further push the terribleness from her fore-brain.

"Ms Stark, would you like me to ask Ms Potts to come to the apartment suite?"

The Inventor thinks his voice too damn soft, and filled with too much damn concern for her to completely recover from the relapse, but she swallows her pain enough to answer. "No thank you JARVIS. I'm fine for now and I'll be getting up in a few minutes."

"Would you like breakfast ordered? Perhaps something more than your usual?"

"No thank you." She pleads with him in her mind not to try and cheer her up.

"Ms Loki is in the sitting room ma'am."

"Ms Loki? Did she ask you to call her that J?"

"She took offence to Ms Odindóttir. I believe she dislikes her family."

"Oh," Toni clears her throat, wipes her eyes, and sits up. "What makes you think that bud?"

"Her tone of voice is similar to yours when speaking of Mr Hammer."

The Inventor snorts and coughs. "No one hates their family that much."

"Perhaps I'm wrong," the AI pauses a moment, "it may be similar to the tone you use for Captain Rogers."

"Now that, I might agree with."

"I've taken the liberty of ordering you french toast and a fruit salad."

"Awh," Toni whines, "don't make me eat J."

"Very well Ms Stark. Shall I also cancel the Mexican Mocha?"

She points an admonishing finger at the camera, "not cool J, not cool."

"I see. Then, you will be having breakfast?"

"Fine, you win," Toni rolls out of bed, "you don't have to send one of the suits after me."

"I only do so in cases of extreme emergencies."

She hums her reply as she moves into the hall. Damn him if he hasn't made her feel better, he's always able to pull stuff like that. Make her eat, make her feel better, get the jerk that she's slept with to leave. He's a maddeningly wonderful little super AI, with more code than she can ever possibly go through.

Sadness creeps back in around Toni's edges. Maybe if she did sit down and go through everything, every algorithm, every memory loop back, maybe she can find that key puzzle piece, that special something that randomly flipped, and she'll be able to get back sentient JARVIS.

"Ms Loki," she greets half sarcastically, hoping that trying to irritate the Trickster might take her mind off her misery.

"Simple Mortal," the God nods politely, and seemingly, completely genuinely back.

It's also possible that the Asgardian trying to annoy her in return, will also cheer the Inventor up.

"Ms Stark, Ms Leofric, your meals are arriving," JARVIS announces just before the ding of the elevator.

"Off my little minion PA," Toni flicks her hand toward the lift, "fetch me my food."

The Trickster's eyes light up, and her voice comes out like butterscotch, "right away Miss Stark."

Toni groans. Loki's had centuries to practice being annoying, so maybe, the Inventor should quit while she's ahead, or only marginally behind. Then she cringes when the other woman accepts the trolley from the attendant with a far too up beat 'thank you sir'. That disguised voice and attitude of the Trickster's is definitely going to give everyone diabetes, or tooth decay, or something else equally overly sweetly terrible.

"Thank you very much for breakfast Miss Stark," the God chirps while laying out the trays.

"Ms, Loki, Ms, not miss. And spit the damn candy cane out before I choke you with it." Toni cringes again at the other woman's evilish smile. "JARVIS, remind me to do something horrible to Loki later," her face brightens, "like invite Thor up."

"Yes Ms Stark," JARVIS answers while Loki glares daggers at the Inventor.

Toni sits and eats in silence beside the Asgardian, trying to fight off another wave of sadness and despair from washing over her fragile emotional shoreline. She focuses on her food, and considers how good the french toast is, but then, it's always good. She'd hired the best to work in her kitchen, and it always makes her happy to think that she has the most over qualified cafeteria staff in the world.

Well, Restaurant Magazine called it a cafeteria, but she doesn't think that too many cafeterias have wing backed chairs and five thousand dollar a square foot carpeting. The jerks had also complained that they were forced to sit beside a janitor still in a boiler suit when she'd invited them to try the place out, but they can so shove their pompous opinions up their asses, cause Toni didn't build Stark Tower's Dining Hall for a group of judgemental snobs, she built it for *her* people.

The briefly distracting thoughts dissolve again into those of the past few days, and it takes an effort for Toni to suppress and hold back tears. But, her french toast *is* good, and it's always good.

Loki carefully eyes Antonia, and considers how terrible the Mortal looks. Her eyes and nose are red and swollen, her hair is tangled, her cheeks drooped, her lips pursed to fight off a frown, and she's not really eating the food in front of her, she's only playing with it, making lines in her maple syrup, recoating the same piece of soggy bread over and over. The God knows that this woman is miserable, despondent, and it reminds her of her own losses, causes her own pain to bobble up once more, but for some reason, she cannot summon the hate she usually uses to squash such feelings down.

"Child arrived just the other day," Toni sings quietly. "Came to the world in the usual way. But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay, I learned to walk while he was away."

The pain evident in the Mortal's voice, makes Loki wish to tell Antonia that her Clever Child is lying, tell her that he is as alive as she wishes, but she resists. She is still not certain of her suspicions, and in any event, JARVIS would know his mother far better than the God, and if he believes that it is best to keep his true disposition secret from her, then she trusts his judgement. Nines help her, she has truly come to trust a mortal's creation's judgement.

Finally, Toni puts the overly soaked triangle into her mouth; then turns to the Trickster. "My father was a prick too, ya know?"

"Yes," Loki attempts to sound neutral.

"Yeah, it's why I didn't want kids, didn't want to risk the family curse."

"Your mother? Did she not care for you?"

Toni's eyes focus beyond her plate, to some distant point in her past. "Yeah, she cared. But she was just as busy as my father."

"A pity," the God says softly.

"Yeah."

They descend into silence once more, both again caught in their memories of the past, both swallowed by the dark spaces in their hearts, until, after a few lengthy moments, Toni comes to a decision.

"Look," she begins, "life's shit, but I have money, and means, and intelligence, and thank god, common sense, well, maybe selective common sense, Pep, Darce, and Rhodey are always telling me how little of it I actually have-"

"Antonia," Loki interrupts, both woman a little startled by the gentleness in the God's voice.

"Loki," Toni continues after a beat, "if you can," but JARVIS cuts her off.

"Ms Darcy and Ms Potts are arriving."

"A little more warning next time J? Please?"

"My apologies Ms Stark, I was unaware of their destination."

The elevator doors open nearly the instant he finishes speaking, and Pepper comes gliding out to stop a few feet from the steps leading to the sitting area. Darcy on the other hand, slips past the opening and the Redhead with little grace, hanging off corners and ledges to redirect her momentum, comes all but crashing to the floor in front of the coffee table, and proceeds to claim and rip open the final container from the cart. Then, she begins to shamelessly steal food from the other two women's plates.

Toni ignores the girl's blatant theft in favour for jumping up from the couch, and all but running to her friend's side.

The Redhead smiles, "would you like a hug Toni?"

She points to Loki who's staring death at Darcy. "Well, you know, new employee, company image, propriety, rumours about the bosses getting down on office desks."

Pepper nods, but waits for the other woman to decide that she wants the support.

As vulnerable as Toni feels, she doesn't hold out long. "Yes, I'd like a hug."

Immediately, The Redhead wraps the Genius up in her arms, and pats her back soothingly while the Inventor buries her face into the offered shoulder.

"It's a good thing you wear heels," Toni mumbles, her voice masked by a layer of clothing and body. "Cause this'd be awkward if you didn't."

"Then it's also a good thing that you don't."

"Nah, I got self respect."

"No you don't Toni."

They smile at their very old joke, as Pepper squeezes her friend harder and runs her fingers over her scalp, pulling lightly at the Inventor's hair.

"It's going to be okay," the Redhead soothes.

"I know," Toni is almost in sobs again.

They stay like that for a long moment, both ignoring Loki and Darcy's presence. Pepper always makes things better, her blood shot eyes and single shed tear when Toni had got off the plane from Afghanistan, somehow lessened the nightmare she'd gone through. And then, when she'd refused to wear anything that put her pockmark scarred breasts on display, it only took a 'their fine' from her friend to make the Inventor ditch the self-consciousness.

Toni squeezes tighter and lets a few tears fall, "I love you Pep."

"I know Toni," she replies softly, "and I'm here for you."

They're again silent for a moment or two. Then the Inventor decides that she's had enough of the sappy stuff, and asks in her best mock sweet voice, "make love to me? Cause I'm so irresistible?"

Pepper pats the Genius' back, "only to yourself. How about I just get you mirror sheets."

"Mmm, kinky. I'll finally be in bed with someone as great as me."

"You better watch out though, your ego might get jealous."

Toni let's out a few chuckles, "redheads," then pulls away, but keeps ahold on her friend's arms.

"Better," Pepper asks, giving a reassuring smile.

The Inventor nods and smiles back weakly, "yeah."

"I'd tell you both to get a room, but yeah, that didn't work out so great last time."

"Don't listen to the Kid Pep," Toni fires back, "she's just jealous of our wildly intimate bond that doesn't need any sexual reinforcement."

Darcy fake gags, "old people saying the S word."

"Hey, Kid," Toni turns on the Girl, "I'm only fourteen years older than you are, *and* one of us is considered a sex symbol."

"Ewww, gross. Just stop, or I might not ever be able to think about sleeping with anyone ever again."

The Inventor advances on the Girl, a malicious glint in her eye. "The internet is swimming with testimonials of how much of a goddess I really am. Men and women all over the world fall all over themselves just to get a chance to look at me." She leans down closer to the other woman's ear, and stage whispers in her best wounded tone, "and when I ache, millions beg to be allowed to sooth my every want."

Cringing at the ultra creepy meridian response crawling up her neck, Darcy presses her face flat into the table, dramatically covers her head like she's protecting it from fallout, and intently deludes herself into being anywhere else.

A tap on her shoulder draws Toni's attention away from the delightful display, and to a silent, smirking Pepper, holding out a dixie cup.

"Now I feel better Pep," she smiles brilliantly, "much, much better."

"I don't," Darcy offer's miserably. "Why do i even hang around with you anyway."

Toni swallows her meds. "Cause your life would be boring without me."

"I have to go," Pepper squeezes her friend's hand, "I have a meeting with AIM."

"Anything interesting," the Inventor asks.

"No, just some details about the rebranding of War Machine to Iron Patriot."

"Hmm, what ever makes Rhodey happy."

"Try to take it easy Toni."

"I will hun."

They give one another more concerned and weak smiles a moment more, trying to impart and absorb support, but they're interrupted by more whining.

"Gag me with a spoon," Darcy's voice is muffled by her still hidden head. "Pepper just leave already, you two are reaching Dick and Mary levels of sickeningly sweet."

Toni sighs, "I'll poke her in the eye later."

"I'm sure you will." Pepper smiles again, but much more freely; then, disappears into the elevator.

Breathing out some of her tension, Toni stares off into the direction the Redhead left. She's lucky to have a friend like her, loyal, uncomplicated in many ways, kind, forgiving, forgiving was important, caring, and above all, willing to help the Inventor compensate for her many faults. Without Pepper Potts, Toni was sure she'd be lost, destitute, or worse.

A few moments and breaths more, and Toni returns to her spot on the couch, lightly jabs Darcy in the eye; then gets back to her breakfast.

"Hey," Darcy bellows, "what was that for!?"

"Being a brat."

Continuing to pretend to read, the interactions of the three mortals far too interesting to actually do so, Loki carefully examines all that she has seen, heard, and sensed. It has been centuries since she has witnessed such pretences, such self delusions. It was as if she were once again in the palace, watching as her adoptive parents interact, her siblings and cousins squabble, Sif and Thor awkwardly fumble around one another. The partial lies, half truths, all puzzles hanging in the air, waiting for Loki's greedy mind to solve. It is pleasant.

"I am not a brat," Darcy asserts.

"Yeah," Toni snorts, "and I'm a shining example of feminine decorum."

"You're a jerk."

"Hmm."

"We're going to talk about the whole 'I'm not really a Stark' thing now," Darcy demands, her eyes intently not leaving her meal.

"What's there to talk about," the Inventor shrugs, "I basically told you everything. And I'm sure you badgered JARVIS endlessly since then."

"Yeah, I did. But none of that proves anything. They could have been taking samples from someone else. Maybe you have a secret sister, maybe you were accidentally switched at the hospital. There could be a million different things. Who knows."

"Mom did," Toni says with great finality. "Antonia Edwenia Stark, born May 29th at four sixteen AM after nine hours of labour. Sea blue eyes, dirty blonde hair, four pounds one ounce, eighteen inches long. And so on."

"So!?" Darcy bursts, her voice mirroring the levels from the day before. "That doesn't mean anything!"

"One month later, sky blue eyes, brown almost black hair, six pounds five ounces, twenty-one inches, et cetera, et cetera."

"So what!"

Toni sighs. "A baby's eye colour might shift like that, *maybe* their hair darkens, but babies don't gain that much weight or grow that long in just a month."

"How the hell would you know?" Darcy's fork still hovers at her plate, but her grip on it has turned menacing.

"Maria kept detailed records of everything, even had a log of her contractions. Had a lock of my hair in the front of her baby book for me, but with a few strands of unknown daughter in the crease. My foot prints a few pages later, but with a few pages torn out before it. Weight and length recordings, daily descriptions of baby X; then me, phonetics of every sound, every runny nose." Toni shoves another bite of mush in her mouth. "Maria Stark would've noticed if her kid had been switched. And besides, she wrote what happened right in her journal, and I already told you what it said."

"That what? Howard let some shady mister Recorder man cure her; then switch her for you to what? Hide her from Recorder man!?"

"Like I said, I didn't have a say in it, I didn't make it happen, I didn't know until well after they died, and I'm sorry it upsets you."

"But don't you get how crazy it sounds," Darcy's agitation boarders on frantic, "how totally improbable it'd be."

"So what," Toni throws back, her own anger rising, "Maria is a nut? Made up the story? Okay, I buy it. Their daughter died and I'm the replacement, made up the story out of grief, despair, delusion, whatever. Still doesn't change the fact that I'm Antonia Stark version two, and that he experimented on me."

"Version two? Experimented on you? Are you insane!?"

"Enough," Toni shouts. "Knock it off kid. Not open for discussion. Off limits. Bring it up again and your ass is in the elevator. JARVIS, load the orbital coil gun."

"I don't believe that would be a very good idea at the moment Ms Stark," the AI tries to reason.

"J, please. The coil gun"

"Yes ma'am."

Uncomfortable silence lays thickly over the three women, and Loki is not exactly certain of what had just occurred between the two mortals. On the television, a very complicated device that she can barely decode is being displayed, and she can feel JARVIS observing through every camera in the room. The emotions in the air are thick, almost choking, but mixed and confused, layered one upon the other, and pierced with old pain and anger. The puzzle has become more varied, complexity fracturing out from the two beings and the Construct, like lightening passing between clouds.

"What is this," Loki asks, and nearly slaps herself when she realizes that she's trying to defuse the tension.

"The Rain of Terror," Toni answers, her voice utterly flat and devoid.

The God gives her an unfathomable look.

"It fires metallic projectiles from orbit using a series of magnetic coils." The Inventor uses the remote to pull pieces of the virtual satellite apart.

The silence thickens further, but the moment has lost some of its sharp edge, and Loki continues to observe. Then, an idea comes to her mind and she pulls the stylus out of her tablet to draw something. After a moment, she hands the completed work to the other woman.

Toni examines the offering. "How'd you do this."

"I have found that copy and paste, is a powerful function."

Darcy perks, and tries to spy what the Asgardian wrote, or drew, but can't quite get the angle.

"It is," Toni smirks and transfers the image to the TV.

The satellite moves aside, and Darcy's curiosity is at once completely sated, and driven to astronomic heights. Pun totally intended. The TV's now displaying a tangled mess of thousands of miniature particle accelerators, all interconnected into a honeycomb like structure, and all looking very super cool.

"Ms Loki," JARVIS almost sounds angry to the Asgardian's ear, "please do not encourage Ms Stark in such endeavours."

"Why not J," Toni interjects, "I am the Merchant of Death aren't I? Why not have the Merchant and the god of mayhem collaborate."

"It is my understanding that Ms Loki's Greek equivalent would be Hermes."

"As if," Darcy chortles.

Loki Google's the Greek god, and is instantly indignant. "I am not a benefactor." 

Toni snorts, "I don'no, playing tricks on the other gods, driving his brother nuts. Sounds like you." Damn it, JARVIS has managed to cheer her up yet again.

The God raises an eyebrow at the Mortal.

"What?" the Inventor mock shrugs. "He put lies and seductive words in Pandora's box. Still sounds a lot like you."

"I am *not* the benefactor of mortals." Loki scowls while thoughtlessly continuing to eat.

Seeing that his creator is putting more than one small piece of food into her mouth, JARVIS quietly saves then clears the design schematics from the screen, and replaces them with muted CNN.

"Hmm. Again I don'no," Toni picks up the tablet with Loki's information on it and flicks it around, "this seems fairly beneficial."

"You seem fairly beneficial," Loki sneers back.

Darcy breaks out into a fit of giggles. "What are you?" she begins snorting like a pig, "five!?" then breaks down into a fit of full laughter.

"Be silent," the God commands.

Toni's started laughing too, and the Asgardian's reply only makes her laugh harder. "Oh please," she begs, "stop. My chest still hurts."

Loki sneers and resumes pretending to read.

"So," Darcy begins when their laughter dies down, "what's the plan?"

"Plan?" Toni slouches into the couch, balancing her plate on her stomach.

"With Loki-smokey over there," Darcy casually points; then, lights up, "are we going to dissect him?"

Loki glares evenly at the idiot mortal girl, utterly unamused.

"No. We're going to study magic scientifically, and we're going to figure out how to stop those aliens from bugging us again."

"Yeah, got that from Pep. The question is how."

"Don'know yet," Toni shrugs, "we'll figure it out."

"We?" Darcy asks, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, I think Loki'd be good at scientific experimentation and investigation. Actually, I think this is going to be great, maybe even fun."

"Academic pursuits are often pleasing," the God looks to Antonia, a dull expression about her face, "but never, fun."

"Oh, come on Loki Pasteur," the Inventor smirks, "it's going to be a blast."

"Hardly."

"Kill joy."

"Gods," Darcy groans, "you too bicker like an old married couple."

"Does that mean we're going to start fighting over the remote and last cheeto." Toni smiles widely, her former sadness all but gone.

"I would murder you in your sleep for both," the God doesn't look up from her pretend reading, incomprehensibly please by their banter.

"Would you at least kill me after a night of great sex?"

"No," Loki answers flatly, but her lips have turned up, ever so slightly.

"Well," Toni fake pouts, "that's just mean, and cruel, and not very polite."

"Indeed."

"Quite."

"Yes."

"Well," Toni bites her lip to keep from laughing again, "perhaps we should exchange monosyllabic expressions of arrogance in person."

Darcy isn't quite as controlled as the older woman, and begins chuckling.

"Have I missed something," Loki is genuinely confused. 

"Uhuh," Toni replies.

"Hmm," Darcy continues.

"Yes," Toni adds.

Silence hangs in the air once more, but this time it's heavy with amusement and anticipation rather than misery and strife.

Loki stares daggers at the two women. "You mortals have the baring of an infant bilgesnipe."

Darcy rolls her eyes, "way to kill a joke, Lokes."

"I am not here to amuse you," the God dismisses the girl with a turn of her head.

"You may not be here to amuse her," Toni picks up, "but you are here to amuse me," she shrugs, "It's in everyone's contract."

Loki shakes her head in resigned disgust, which somehow makes the two jesters snigger lightly, but then all three fall into a relatively comfortable silence as they finish their meals. Again, Loki is disturbed to feel pleased that Antonia's spirits have lifted, and contemplates her reactions to the Mortal. Perhaps, she does not feel so much disturbed, as uncomfortable. Something within Antonia is recognizable, not the pain which she has displayed, but something familiar, something from her childhood.

Perhaps, it is the Mortal's zest for learning, not unlike the God's own when she began to study magic, but that answer seems unfulfilling. Then, perhaps, it is Antonia's easy spirit, rarely censoring her words and speaking her thoughts very plainly, or perhaps the way which she quickly comes to understand other's motivations, perhaps her protective nature, or her wielding of the Midgardian magic called science.

No, it is none of these things. Loki simply feels as if she has known Antonia Stark, as if they had met many years before, and the recognition is tickling at the back of her mind, gnawing to find the instant they had met, came to know one another. However, that would be impossible, trapped as the God was for centuries before the Mortal had even been born, but perhaps, Antonia simply reminds her of someone. Yes, that is far more likely, Antonia reminds Loki of someone, someone whom she liked, even trusted, but whom would that be.

"Well Kid," Toni throws her aluminium container onto the trolly, "time to go play with Jane. I've got work to do."

Darcy eyes her, "you're not going to lose it again, are you?"

"No, I'm not going to lose it. Loki and I just have some problems to solve."

"I could help, pitch in, hold the calculator while you two over complicate some simple theorem."

"Nah," the Inventor curls into the couch's arm, "Foster'd just start whining again that I stole the best assistant she ever had, which I think translates to, the only person that's ever understood what the hell she's talking about, and who puts up with her crap."

"Yeah," Darcy smiles, "between you, her, and the other SI nutcases, I should have dual PhDs in 'deciphering rambling gibberish', and 'the care and maintenance of mad scientists'.

"Puh, you *wish* I was a mad scientist. I," Toni straightens and lifts her head with grand pride, "am an inventor. I don't just work on some abstract theories that may never be used, I," she thrusts a finger into the air, "create usable technology that improves everyone's lives and the world in general."

"I'm not sure who you remind me more of, Dexter, or Brain."

"Brain Darcy dear, always Brain, which, makes you Pinky."

"Awesome!" Darcy cheers, "I get to point out where your plan's going to fail before it's even begun."

Toni glares at the Girl, completely unamused. "Go play."

"Gee, I don't know Brain, maybe we should work instead of engaging in frivolous narfing. Even if it's totally zort."

Darcy bolts from her spot on the floor the microsecond Toni lunges at her. Knowing the crazed Inventor, her retaliation could be anything from tickle-death, to sitting on her while singing the entire score of the HMS Pinafore. Thankfully, JARVIS has the elevator ready for her escape, but before the doors fully close, she lets out one final cry of 'narf'.

In the wake of the playful outburst, Antonia's expression is unreadable to Loki. It is hinting, yet blank, and the God is again struck by her own reaction, by her desire to prompt the Mortal, to unveil the full image of the mystery which lay before her eyes, to... Loki knows not what. Not to sooth, that would be pure ridiculousness, but, something. 

"I have money, and means, and intelligence, and if you can get your kids here, I can keep them hidden while giving them some semblance of a life."

Loki is stunned, and is only able to recover a small portion of her senses. to respond. "Pardon me?"

"I'm sorry," Toni curls back into the cushions, fully facing the Asgardian now, "I tend to do that, pick up conversations where I left off without framing or context. I'm talking about what we were talking about before, before Darcy and Pep came in, although I really hadn't said much-"

"Antonia," the God interrupts, further recovering from her laps, "I know to what you are speaking of. I wish to know why."

"Why not? I mean yeah, not a satisfying answer, but if Norse mythology is even slightly recountive, which I know it is cause I've asked Thor; then your kids don't deserve the crap they're put through, and yeah, they're your kids, but shit, punishing a parent by punishing their child, that's so many levels of bullying it's almost a divide by zero, and I have a real problem with bullies, I tend to invent vicious things first and ask questions later-"

"Antonia." Again, Loki is disturbed at how amused rather than angry her annoyance is. "If you know of my history, and of what the Others have done, then you know why I am sceptical and cautious, yet still very likely to accept your offer regardless."

"Yeah," Toni's focus blurs into the floor, and to some new unknown point, "but I'm sure you'll come up with some kind of backup plan, or some spell or something."

"A 'backup' would not be necessary. Mine and my kins' plans are not easily escaped from. In any event, I believe Jörmungandr has reach the end of his patients, and would not hesitate to swallow your realm whole, if you crossed us."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You should." Loki gives a darling, but very sinister smile.

Toni groans, "why do you make it so hard for people to be nice to you."

"I ask for no kindness Antonia."

"And don't think for a second that I haven't noticed you calling me by my full first name."

Loki genuinely had not, and it is just one more thing to add to her list of growing concerns with this Mortal.

Shaking her head, the Inventor skips examining the shift in their relationship. "When will you be ready to go get them?"

"Now, if it's convenient."

"It's convenient."

Toni should've thought a little more before agreeing so readily, should've ask for an action plan, a direction. Or at least what their mode of transportation would be, because, suddenly seeing the world, or dimension, start to fly by, is very, very, nauseating.


	7. Cutting Cloth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sneaking into Asgard to rescue one of the kids, Loki's moody, Toni's contemplative, and Sleipnir turns out to be just another typical guy. Horse guy. Whatever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes: I've made some minor edits to the previous chapters, but mostly only to wording and punctuations, so nothing overly dramatic.

The very fabric of reality shreds soundlessly into dozens of thin ribbons, each outlined by a brilliant glow, and centred with a black so deep, the eternity of death could not describe it. The strands then expand, swelling with the force that created them, twisting and bloating, filling to bursting, but in the instant of their creation, twin streaks of black flame are birthed from their growing centre, tearing and dragging the darkened mass of reality with them.

The magical pair of black holes are the speeding forms of Loki and Toni, as they rush mindlessly past trees and low walls, dip and rise to hug the stone road, and slice the calm of the countryside. But despite the violence of the event, the stillness of night is not disturbed. The air remains heavy with its rapidly cooling air, the birds continue to roost with little care, and the nearby residence go about their lives, all oblivious to the two travellers, or of the growing sick in the pit of Toni stomach.

Then, for no apparent reason, Loki changes their directions, and diverges their streaks from one another. They flow around an unseen obstacle, spreading further and further apart, until their mirrored arches bring them back together, smashing them into one, and splintering the black comets into thousands of tongues of evaporating flame.

The force of the impact throws both women from the magical transporting fire, and while Loki takes only a few heavy steps from it before bringing herself to a lazy stroll, Toni stumbles forward, surging and weaving to keep herself upright, but inevitably, she falls and skids painfully onto the pebbly ground.

Loki smiles down at the heap of Mortal by her feet. "Perhaps with practice?" she mocks.

"You did that on purpose," Toni seethes as she spits and sneezes the dust from her face.

"Me?" The God places her hand innocently on her chest and bats her eyes. "I assure you, I did nothing to cause you such a disastrous exit."

"Yeah right," the Inventor groans, "but you knew it was going to happen."

"Yes, indeed I did. And it was as pleasing as I hoped it would be."

Loki starts down the path they had just been flying along, still smiling as she eyes the dirt covered and annoyed Antonia, and thinks of how amusing the Mortal looks when she is angry, and how darling it is that the other Woman so readily falls for her tricks.

Suddenly, the God's light mood shifts into self recrimination. How could she continue to think these things of such a pathetic and insignificant creature? And how could she possibly think and call such a lesser being by its birthname? She had not even realized that she was doing the latter until the Mortal herself had pointed it out, and could not seem to direct her mind from doing so. Surely, the minor shared similarity of their children, could not prompt such a drastic and misguided mindset.

"Where the hell are we," Toni unknowingly interrupts, patting the dust from her clothes.

"Asgard," the Dark God points to some buildings off in the distance, "there is Idavöllr, Gladsheimr, and Vingólf."

"Uh-huh. And why didn't we take the magical flamey thing all the way there?"

Loki moves to reply, but her posture is that of someone ignoring a bothersome fool. "Let me ask you Antonia, what would occur, if someone were to suddenly arrive at your doorstep unannounced, blustering and blaring in their arrival."

Toni turns to the Asgardian, her face dour, voice deadpanned. "A simple, it'd draw attention, would've sufficed."

"Then, you would have learned nothing Mortal."

"Does everything have to be some variation of sticking it to someone with you?"

"No." Loki smiles genuinely and pleasantly. "But then, life would be so dull as to merit ending it."

"Oh good," the Inventor breaths, "suicidal ideation from the morally questionable trickster god."

Conversation completely dies out while Toni and the Trickster continue towards the enormous castle. The keep is multistoried and built with squared stone, as are the handful of smaller structures surrounding it, and sits on a short rise that's encircled by a waist high wall. There's also a few dozen more houses as well as some smaller keeps sitting away from the main group. And everything looks old, covered with moss and lichen and somewhat unevenly built, making it all look like a medieval painting come to life, and as soon as that thought crosses her mind, the Inventor realizes that this place is pretty much exactly that, an unchanging land frozen in ancient times.

She also assumes by the way the buildings are oriented, and by the way the nearby gate looks, that this is some kinda back entrance. The forty foot gate dwarfs the relatively stubby wall, and Toni assumes there must be some kind of magic or trap or trick that makes the laughable shortness otherwise unscalable. Then, she notices the very slight shimmer, like a rippling sheet of air, extending from the top of the gate and wall to disappear into the dark star lit sky.

As if sensing her thoughts, Loki answers. "It is a shield enchantment. Normally, one would simply be able to step over the fortification. However, if one is not invited, the magic barrier will eviscerate."

"Um," Toni swallows, "I hope you're using that word in the wrong context."

"Not at all. Your body will step over the wall as you intend, but your guts will remain behind."

"Hmm, pleasant."

The God looks absently off into the distance. "I was barely as high as the wall, when I first witnessed an uninvited guest crossing it. A jötunn, a giant, stepped over the barrier without hesitation, as if it were but a stick he was taking care not to trip over. His entrails, guts, and even an organ or two, slipped with ease from his skin and clothing, and flopped to the ground with little spectacle. They seemed to quiver slightly, as if they continued to hold life. The giant, Fjolvor; then walked a few dozen paces, completely unaware that he had lost is innards, until he stopped, looked at his belly, and dropped dead."

"Hmm," the Inventor repeats, "even more pleasant."

"Not at all," Loki turns to the Mortal, her face alight with an evil smile, "I found it horrifying. Mother was forced to coddle me for days, and I would scream in abject terror, when a friend or family member drew close to it. It was many seasons before I would even glance in the wall's direction."

Toni gives a sad smirk and slow nod to the trickster, her eyes filled with compassion and attempted understanding.

The God's smile widens further, showing both teeth and glee. "We will, likewise, be crossing it shortly."

Again, they fall silent as Loki guides them off the road and onto the grass. For a few feet, it's short, like it'd been mowed, but further away from the path it randomly goes from ankle tall, to shoulder deep; then back again. They pass rocks and stumps and other woodland detritus that only becomes visible to Toni when she's almost on top of them, but they never seem to actually need to go around any of it, and it's blatantly apparent to the Inventor that either, the Trickster's using magic to pick them out well before they can see them, or she knows exactly where she's going. Maybe Loki's even using the seemingly random debris as land marks to find the exact spot to cross.

They also avoid houses which seem to be everywhere except where they're walking, and pass within a few dozen meters of a cottage. She can hear boisterous voices from the nearby miniature looking keep, and can even see the shapes of people in the windows, but the deep black of night, as well as the fairly high grass, keep them hidden from any possible lookers on.

Their easy stealth, and seemingly military grade GPS accuracy, is all very amusing to Toni, and she wants to tease the Trickster about it, wants to ask if she knows the route so well because she'd escaped curfew so often, but doesn't, because Loki is so unpredictable. One minute she's friendly and charming, the next she's angry and seething. Obviously the so-called god has some unresolved issues, and the Inventor watches the emotions play over Loki's face as she looks from house to house, shifting from endearing to murderous.

The mythos that Toni'd studied, which is admittedly written from another universe's prospective, documents how poorly the usually harmless Trickster was treated. She was blamed for just about everything, and likely constantly feared for her own safety. The poems and stories portrayed her fear as pathetic, but if Thor is any indication of how massive and instantly violent the Asgardians are, well, Toni thinks that Loki was quite justified in her fear.

Her thoughts trail off as they emerge from the tall grass into another shorter stretch. Again the area seems mowed and she wonders what they would use to keep their lawns so short. Probably magic. Her thoughts shift again as Loki walks up the low wall, straddles it without hesitation, and swings her other leg over, the sheet of shimmering air not rippling in the slightest. Then Loki extends her hand through the magic toward her companion.

"Antonia of York, daughter of Howard the Stark, I invite you to join me in visiting my home."

Toni stares at the offered hand, "it's because you lived here."

"Yes."

"And inviting me stops this, enchantment or whatever, from killing me."

"Yes." The God smiles at the other woman's discomfort, but wiggles her fingers to coax her forward.

"For the record, I hate you and I would have never offered to do this if I knew being separated from my insides was a possibility."

The Trickster's eyes flash with amusement.

"Okay," Toni takes the alien Woman's hand, "here we go."

Loki gently guides the Inventor through the barrier. She can feel that the other Woman's nerves are high, but there is no hesitation or draw.

Toni closes her eyes as the sheet of energy reaches her face, but a low rumbling hum draws her eyes sharply down. She freezes, clutching the Trickster's hand in a death grip. "What's happening!?"

"I do not know." Loki sees that the dull light centred between the other Woman's breasts, which is usually white blue, has turned pink.

"Oh fuck, I'm dead."

The God says nothing, but allows the harsh grip to continue.

"What the hell do I do," Toni questions in a harsh whisper. When Loki only stares at her reactor at a different angle, she growls, "do I go in or out?"

"You have already passed halfway," the God shrugs.

"Very fucking helpful Loki. Remind me to bring you along the next time I'm literally straddling death."

The God smiles faintly, "my daughter would find that statement amusing."

"I hate you," seethes Toni, "I hate you and I don't care that if this thing blows, it's taking you with me."

Loki looks more closely at where the magic and technology meet.

"Get behind that building," the Inventor demands as she points to a nearby structure.

"No."

"Didn't you hear me," Toni's voice fills with anger, "I have a nuclear bomb in my chest."

Loki straightens her stands, but keeps a hold on the other woman's hand. "Will you remain as you are unto old age, or will you move," she smiles as she adds, "mortal."

"Keep grinnin'," the Inventor retorts in a sing-song. "Okay," she closes her eyes tight, "here I go." She expects Loki to wrench her from the field but the Trickster remains perfectly still, her grip never wavering. "Oh," her voice is a strangled half cry as she gingerly, and slowly moves toward the Trickster.

Nothing happens, so Toni pulls her leg over the wall to bring herself completely into the city. There's no pain, no zults of energy, just her heavy breathing and the taste of fear. She opens her eyes and smiles slightly, but her it fades as she sees that Loki is staring in locked fascination with the space she just left. Her own eyes snap to the barrier, and she sees a scab of dim deep blue and purplish mass of energy clinging to the shimmering sheet of air exactly where the arc reactor had been. 

Loki steps forward and slowly reaches out her hand. They're both fascinated by the phenomenon, but for probably two very different reasons. Looking at it, Toni wonders if high energy weak nuclear force reactions can interact with magic on some fundamental level. But the thought is interrupted when Loki touches the dim light; then immediately wrenches her hand back with a hiss. The Inventor looks at the burn to the Trickster's fingers; then closer at the energy.

"It's plasma," she announces, "very little hydrogen. Maybe nitrogen?" She turns to the Asgardian.

"Why is it not dissipating?" Loki lightly rubs her sore fingers.

Toni really had no idea what she expected Loki to say, but the reply is coherent and relevant, and she dares to think, at least a little bit knowledgeable. She turns to the phenomenon again. It's moving, and spreading very slowly into the rest of the field.

"Maybe," she stumbles over her words, unsure of what to say. "Maybe magic has an insulating effect on energy. Maybe the heightened energy state of the plasma isn't compatible with it."

The God tilts her head, "perhaps the enchantment is keeping your 'energy' alive."

At first Toni thinks it's a ridiculous and personifying statement, but it triggers a cascade of thoughts. Maybe whatever phenomenon that powers magic is exciting the atoms in the plasma, keeping them hot. Maybe some kind of high energy particle, or an as yet undiscovered quantum field. Or maybe, M-Theory is right after all, and Einstein is more of an Aristotle then a Newton.

Loki swats at the energy, throwing it away from the enchantment and diluting it into the air. The movement startles the other woman enough to make her flinch, and the God smiles at Antonia's shock.

"The greater the time we delay here, the greater the chance of our discovery."

"Right," Toni nods and falls into step with the Asgardian.

They're silent again, but Toni's been curious about something and it's finally reached critical mass in her head.

"How're you the father of a horse anyway?"

"Mother," Loki's reply is flat. Then she stops and turns into the Mortal's space. "I am Sleipnir's mother, not his father."

Toni shakes her head, "and?" she trails off, letting the word hang.

For a moment, Loki only stares into the other woman's eyes, her gaze slightly angry, but relents in a few breaths, turns back toward her destination, and answers. "Leirvor was commissioned by the Others to build a wall around all of Asgard. He requested that he be given Freyja, Sol, and Mani as payment."

"Okay," Toni prompts.

The God sighs heavily, thinking the Mortal knows nothing. "They are: Freyja, Odr's wife. Venus would be a name that you mortals might associate with her. Sol, the keeper of the light by day. And Mani, the keeper of the light by night. The Others were of course, not willing to pay such a price but wished the wall build, so conspired to swindle Leirvor of his payment, by giving him only three seasons to complete the work, and by barring him from seeking the help of another. He of course, cleverly requested the use of his horse."

Smiling wistfully at the memories, Loki continues. "His mount was a handsome and capable stallion by the name of Svadilfari, and surely a prize for any mare. They Others wished to refuse him, but I pointed out that they had barred him from seeking the help of another, not a beast. They were forced to accept this but because Svadilfari was so capable, and Leirvor so clever, he was nearly finished with only three days remaining to the agreement.

"They of course, blamed me for their own stupidity and short sightedness, and they all, without a single dissenter, agreed that I alone was the reason that Leirvor could complete his task. They could not however, go back on their word, and so, insulted me and threatened me, and forced me on pain of a terrible fate, to swear to stop Leirvor from finishing at any cost."

Toni can only stare at the heaving and angry Asgardian. To her, the woman's anger seems just as strong as it would have been the day that all that happened, but if her look and rage is at all diminished from what it had been, then the thought is more than a little scarey.

"So I made myself into a mare," the God continues, "dripping and wreaking with heat, and I enticed Svadilfari to come rutting with me." She smiles salaciously at the Mortal. "He was an excellent rut, well endowed and long lasting." She turns to the horizon, and stays silent, but only for a moment. "And not terribly afflicted with the male need, for a long recovery."

Hearing, from what amounted to a human being, a lust filled recounting of a night of horse sex, was not what Toni would consider, arousing. Or normal. Or arousing. No, it definitely was not arousing. The only reason she could feel her pulse in her jugular, was because it had been exciting for Loki, and she was just feeling an empathetic reaction. It wasn't bestiality if both the participants were, at the time, the same species. Come to think of it, would an Earthling and an Asgardian having sex qualify as bestiality?

The Inventor shakes the thought from her had. "And then?"

Loki's eyebrow quirks, "a year later I birthed Sleipnir. It was not an entirely unpleasant several hours, but they were the most difficult of my life."

"Leirvor, Loki, what happened next with Leirvor."

"He could not continue as before. Svadilfari was far too satiated to work as hard, and it was then discovered that Leirvor was a jötunn, to which Thor shattered his skull for."

"Thor killed someone just for being a giant?"

"Midgardians often kill one another for being a different breed," Loki shrugs.

"Point taken." Toni's starting to get the feeling that if she continues to listen to stories of the other Woman's life, she was seriously going to start hating Thor. 

It takes only a little while longer to reach a barn, or stable, or whatever it's called, the Inventor really isn't all that great with biological stuff. At five when her mother had taken her to a riding farm, she'd called it an animal garage, and Toni smirks happily at the memory. The name still makes sense to her, it's where one parks their animals. Easy, intuitive, no need for the unnecessary invention of new words. Taking the building in, she thinks it's at once ornate and nondescript, basically one story, with a second, shorter and thinner loft area on top. Like everything else, it's made of squared stone and decorated with some dark wood. Really, not too unlike some of the garages in rich neighbourhoods.

She continues the analogy once they're inside. Each animal has its own parking space, separated by mostly plain walls from each other, and a door from the isle, and it smells of 'fuel' and 'exhaust', and some of the biological vehicles even sound like they're sputtering and backfiring.

Toni sighs and shakes her head, she really does need to get away from technology more often.

Loki ignores Antonia's gawking, and rushes straight to a particular stall. "Sleipnir," she says softly, "Sleipnir, it's mother." Her face crumbles at the silence. "Please forgive me my dear son. I have wished to visit, but doing so has proved difficult. Please Sleipnir, I have come to take you to a place where I can frequent." 

A large grey head pokes out from above the gate, and the God kisses the Stallion on the snout while caressing his cheek. He makes a low rumbling sound in responds. 

"Midgard," Loki answers with a glee filled grin. "This mortal has sworn you and your siblings protection." 

Sleipnir grumbles, his lip flaring slightly. 

"I know you do not require it my son, but do you truly wish to be Odin's war horse," the God's brow furrows with plea. 

He warbles slightly. 

"Nothing Sleipnir. I simply wish for you to live in peace, and to be able to visit when I choose, not when it's convenient for the dullard king, or when his subjects are not subjecting me." 

The Stallion's stare makes Toni think of one of Pepper's 'long suffering' expressions. 

"There may be mares," Loki states in a song, and with a tooth filled grin. 

Her son neighs quietly, kicks the door softly; then grumbles and snorts. 

Toni feels more than a little confused by the apparent conversation, which she's only hearing one side of. Isn't magic supposed to make it so everyone understands a talking animal? At least, that's how it works on TV. 

"My baby boy," The God practically beams while patting Sleipnir's shoulder with one hand, and opening the door with the other. 

The Stallion squeals lightly; then grumbles and groans. 

"You will always be my babe, no matter your age, and the tail of what I have done, is long, and I do not feature well in it." 

Another groan. 

"The frost giantesses." 

He eyes her. 

"Do not look at me with such a gaze, you know not the details." 

Loki curls an arm under the Stallion's neck in a half hug, and Sleipnir bows his head slightly to bring his ear closer to the asgardian, while the two tread softly off toward the entrance with Antonia following a short distance behind.

Toni watches as Loki tells the 'animal' what brought her to this point, and can't help but think that he's really, actually listening attentively, despite not behaving in an unhorselike way. At least not any that Toni can see. And the Trickster, for her part, speaks to him as if he were a person. No, better than a person because she doesn't think very much of humanity. She speaks to him as if he were a fellow Asgardian, and not some beast of burden. She speaks gently, and carefully, and without a hint of distraction, and it's making Toni ache a little.

Pepper'd told her about how she was treated similarly to Toni by her parents, and the Redhead wasn't even adopted. They were both ignored while sitting in the same room as them, hurried out of offices instead of having things kindly explained, and were mostly put to bed by other people. The butler in Toni's case, and her grandmother in Pep's. Rhodey on the other hand, the way he spoke about his childhood, well, it seemed very similar to what she was seeing between Loki and Sleipnir. A deeply caring mother giving her child her utmost attention. And it really *is* making the Inventor feel jealous, jealous of a goddamn horse.

It's also surprising to Toni that Loki isn't trying to sugar coat anything she's done. She tells her son the whole truth, even when it makes her look bad, and doesn't respond to his apparent questions with her usual snippy and intolerant, or angry and aggressive, tones. It makes the Inventor wonder what kind of person the Asgardian would be if it wasn't for all the crap she's been put through. In fact, just thinking about it, is making the Inventor consider schematics for an enormous bomb capable of destroying all of Asgard.

Toni's train of thought derails as Sleipnir, who's been completely silent until then, makes a series of sounds.

"It matters not my son," Loki replies gently, "our goals are aligned." 

He nickers back.

"I believe the Mortal may be taking steps to mitigate this. As I said, she is clever." 

Toni clears her throat, "my ears are burning." 

The God turns to answer with a slight, amused lift to her brow. "Then, perhaps you should not hold a candle to its opening, and surely, there is no real reason to do so, as I'm certain you possess a brain within your skull." 

A sound the Inventor is almost positively sure is a laugh, bubbles up from the Stallions throat. "Hmm, funny," she purses her lips. "Are you going to tell me how we're gettin' home?" 

"By way of which we came," the God answers before kissing and nuzzling her son's neck.

Toni groans, "how far away do we have to be to use that fire teleport of yours, and how far before we can open a portal?" 

"As I said, we will leave the way we came." 

"Is there a point to not leaving here and now?" 

Sleipnir neighs softly as he shakes his head. 

"Yes my dear child," Loki pets his neck, "but I think that fact has slipped her mortal mind." 

"Do you mind sharing, oh horse whisperer," Toni's voice is slightly terse. 

"My son doubts your ability to out run the Others should they give chase." 

The stallion's grumble and nods interrupt his mother. 

"But," Loki chuckles through her words, "he thinks you may well be a fine distraction for *our* escape." 

"Oh good," Toni dead pans, "like mother, like son." 

"He wonders, if you always ask pointless questions in an attempt to make yourself heard," the God translates. 

"No."

"Then why would you believe that our exit would be any different from your entrance?" 

"Auh, I donno Sleipy, maybe because some variables have changed." 

At the Mortal's reply, Sleipnir pulls from his mother's grasp, turns to bully his face into Toni's; then snorts and grunts at her.

Loki pats his hind quarters and caresses up his back, while she saunters closer to the Mortal. "he says, my name is Sleipnir." 

"No kidding," the Inventor media grins at him. "I'm Antonia Stark, but I'd rather be called Toni. Belated introductions, you know, cause your mother didn't think to introduce us." 

The Stallion swipes at Toni's face with his snout, almost knocking her over; then turns to continue walking.

Loki smiles, "I think he likes you," then frowns slightly, "or hates you. My son tends to abuse both enemies and obnoxious alias similarly." 

Sleipnir grunts. 

"Yes, yes," the God jogs back to the stallion's head, "why must you be so impatient." 

A flip of the head and a groan is his answer. 

"I said, May. I cannot guarantee you sex Sleipnir, and I would much rather believe that you wish to be free, and to see your mother." 

The Stallion flashes his teeth and gives a small whinny. 

"Well. I would be thoroughly ashamed of you, if I was also not so proud." 

Toni continues to rub her sleeve against her jaw, trying to get the ghost of horse snot off her skin, but she also can't contain her curiosity. "What he say?" 

"That is not for you to know. Mortal." 

Sleipnir groans and nudges the God. 

"Very well," Loki's voice is filled with strained patients. "He says that freedom and visits from me would be welcomed, but the pleasures of the flesh is what is of most importance." She eyes him hard, and whispers in a gruff, half amused groan, "Petulant child."

Toni sees they're approaching the wall, and starts feeling nervous at the prospect of the barrier interacting with her RT again, but Sleipnir, he's obviously not nervous in the slightest as he runs and jumps it without a warning. The Inventor freezes in place as he does this, but Loki continues walking steadily along. A minute later, the Asgardian is also over the wall and petting her son; then, they both look expectantly at her.

Sleipnir flips his head and grunts, but Loki quiets him with a caress to the cheek. "Patients my son. Do you see the light," she points at the Mortal's chest, "it does not mix well with the enchantment."

He grumbles as he nuzzles her jaw.

"She was not coming into the castle, but that does not mean she will not be now." The god pats his main. "Do remember dear one, she is our benefactor." 

"Yes," Toni throws sarcastically, "do remember that I am both your benefactor." 

They wait quietly as Toni faces the field. All the pleasantness and turmoil that arose while listening to mother and son talk, is thrown out the window, and all she thinks now is how that energy field pulled a fist full of plasma from her nuclear heart. That's a subtraction and not much to panic over, but something capable of drawing energy from a source, could also be capable of disruption, or feedback. 

"Monkey see, monkey do," she grumbles; then propels herself over the wall. 

Loki contemplates Antonia's statement, but before she can give a retort, a flash of colour spreads out from where the Woman meets the enchantment. Quickly, the God raises her hand to the disruption, to where the barrier now shimmers, partially oblivious to Antonia's fall and chest clutching, worrying that if the enchantment were to collapse, or if the rippling were to worsen, all would know where they were. Slowly, the magic calms and returns to normal, save for a new blotch of slowly spreading pink.

She turns from the barrier to see that Sleipnir has laid beside Antonia, and is propping the pain frozen Mortal up with his flank. He is offering the Woman a measure of emotional support as well, by cradling the top of her head with his jaw. Antonia however, is oblivious of his offerings, too enthralled as she is on her anguish, writhing and choking as she clutches her chest and digs into her leg.

A panic that Loki thankfully has little time to contemplate, hurries her to Antonia's side. She places a hand on the Woman's chest, taking care not to touch her glowing heart, and suffuses healing magics into her lungs, but the Mortal continues to hold her breath. 

Confused, the God pushes down harder, and commands, "breathe."

Toni swears she can hear the same from Sleipnir's quiet neigh, but the pain is massive, and all she can do is croak, "it burns." 

The three stay frozen in place, but soon, if Antonia does not breathe, she will pass out, but Loki does not necessarily think this a bad thing. If the Mortal's consciousness does slip from her grasp, she will at least, begin to take air once more.

"Stupid Toni," the Inventor forces a growl and slams her fist into her leg; then wheezes in a staggering gasp. "The fucking plasma just missed your fucking spine." She chokes as she slams more oxygen into her lungs; then shouts the whole of her breath, "fuck." 

Loki's hand leaps to the Mortals mouth, and looks around and listens for any sign of notice. "Will you be well," she asks not unkindly. 

Toni nods, shaking the Asgardian's hand away. "It burned threw my chest and out my back, but I'm sure it missed my lungs and spinal cord." She clutches at her shirt, still choking and sputtering occasionally, but is taking more relaxed breaths.

Sleipnir whinnies quietly.

"Like red glowing iron," the God replies. 

Toni flops forward, braces herself one handed off the ground, and unlocks her reactor. Once open, hot, slightly gooey water leaks out over her fingers.

Loki gently lays a hand on the Woman's head. "Are you bleeding?" 

"No," the Inventor shakes her head violently, "it's discharge from the reactor. Ionized deuterium water. Very hot right now." Her breathing is slowing, the choking easing, but she can now comprehend the pain, which in-and-of-itself is an unpleasant thought. "But it beats open heart surgery without anaesthetics."

This is a side of Loki that Toni has never seen before, and hadn't really expected. She couldn't say that the Asgardian has a bed side manor, but her voice and touch are genuinely filled with concern and care, and when Loki had laid a hand on her chest, the warmth she'd felt wasn't from the burn or the reactor, it was from something Loki was doing. Maybe she'd cast some spell, or maybe she'd somehow scanned her body to see what was wrong.

Even now, both she and her son are kneeling in front of her with nothing but concern on their faces, and Toni hadn't even known that horses could kneel. On top of that, Loki's calm demeanour, her strong quiet presence, and her gentle stroking hand, do more to soothe the Inventor's pain then she'd ever have imagined it would.

"May I examine your back?"

The Trickster’s gentle voice isn't surprising to Toni anymore, and nods permission.

Loki pulls up her shirt; then pulls away her bra strap. "Nines," she breathes.

"Is it tea coloured?"

"I am afraid, it is. You also have areas of scaled flesh."

"Radiation burns," the Inventor replies simply. "The plasma must've dumped half it's EM on the way out."

Slowly, and with barely a ghost of a touch, Loki runs her fingers over the injured flesh, but Antonia flinches violently, making her pause.

"Shh," the God soothes.

The sound is so utterly motherly that it makes Toni want to cry, and she breathes a pained sigh as the Asgardian's hand continues to caress over the wound. It hurts, it burns and needles, but she allows the other Woman to continue. She's not really sure why, but she's really starting to trust the supposedly evil, supposed god.

The dead skin and puss scrape off onto Loki's fingers, leaving behind pink and healthy, but raw flesh. "Better?" She wipes the foul off on the grass.

The Trickster sounds like an entirely different person to Toni, her usually harsh voice is deeper, smokier, and it sends chills over the Inventor's body. "Yes, thank you."

Loki scowls down at the Mortals back. "Your flesh is reinjuring itself."

"It's the radiation. Without treatment it'll take days to come out completely."

"It will continue to burn at your flesh?"

"Yeah," Toni grunts as she stands, "inside and out."

"Insidious." Loki's face is twisted with disgust; then, twists into vial anger as she looks down at her hand. "I'm certain the Others would think this a most superb means of punishment."

The sound that escapes Sleipnir's throat, is strangled, as he moves in to inspect his mother's hand.

"It shouldn't be affecting you so quickly." Toni's dismayed at the discoloured ridge of skin on the Asgardian's finger.

"It matters not," she spits, and storms off toward where they had come into Asgard. "We must leave this place before I attempt to raze it to the ground."

The Stallion flips his head at his mother's Mortal; then towards the God.

Toni's almost positive she can hear a 'come' in his vocalizing, and follows without a word, trailing slightly behind the two interdimensional aliens, and watching Loki march with barely contained fury. She can't really blame the Trickster for her rage, and in fact, doesn't, she sympathizes. For the Asgardian, the place is filled with unpleasant memories and unkind people, and it occurs to the Inventor that Thor's near constant forced cheer, likely indicates that he's trying to suppress some darkness as well.

Then it dawns on Toni that Loki's candy cane persona of Lori is an imitation of her brother. The obsessive pleasantries, painfully forced politeness, the nearly manic upbeat shell. Thor absolutely had to have suffered some of what Loki had, Toni just can't believe that he'd completely escaped it. A culture which produced the Trickster god of mayhem, and all those horrible mythological stories, has to have also made a very screwed up god of Thunder. Then, as if sensing her thoughts, Loki offers evidence of exactly that.

"Thor was punished for weeping, when he broke Leirvor's head open with Mjölnir."

Toni's more than a little unnerved by the eerily frozen calm in the Trickster's voice. "Is everyone here ultra violent, and treats other people's lives as an after thought?"

The replying neigh from Sleipnir sounds distinctly like a 'yes', and the Inventor stops wondering why it didn't take much to get the Stallion to decide to leave. This place seems like it's truly horrible, and the tension of being here is beginning to make her sick to her stomach again.

"Aren't you supposed to have eight legs," she asks, more to break the anxiety then anything else.

"It is a misunderstood metaphor," Loki answers tersely. "It is said that he has legs to walk, both in the land of the living, and in the land of the dead. This causes the less competent to assume that he possesses eight legs, and not four capable of two tasks."

"Hmm," Toni agrees, "dumb."

"Yes. Yes it is dumb and they should be stricken dumb for being dumb to good sense. Insolent dullards."

Sleipnir grumbles and nudges his mother.

"No I will not. I have every reason to seethe and splutter."

He nudges her harder with a groaning huff.

"Very well," she grumbles; then whispers, "petulant child."

Without an ounce of effort, Loki places her hands on the stallion's shoulder, hops and swings her leg over his back, and settles neatly into place. She extends her hand toward Toni and wiggles her foot.

"Left foot on mine," she commands, "hand on rump, and a strong jump."

"What?" The Inventor stares at the Asgardian.

Loki growls at the Mortal's stupidity. "Sleipnir has suggested that he ride us to the edge of the realm. It will be faster, and likely less dangerous."

Toni continues to stare.

"Now mortal!" the God demands.

It's the Stallion's head flip and grunt that moves Toni from her spot to try to mount him, but then immediately decides using the word 'mount' around Sleipnir, is probably not a good idea. He seems just as snide and snippy as his mother, but with a heavy dose of sexual obsession common of most men. And really, getting harangued by a horse is not on her to do list. Or anyone's list.

She follows Loki's instructions, settles barebacked on the Stallion, cringes at the new innuendo to avoid; then grasps onto the Trickster for dear life as they take off in a shot. Damn it she knew they'd do something to try and freak her out, like goddamn mother, like goddamn son, and digs her nails into the other Woman's flesh in retaliation.

They move faster and faster down the path, far quicker than Toni thinks possible for a horse, and when the scenery begins to blur, she shuts her eyes to stop herself from throwing up. But it's the now familiar rushing sensation over her skin which truly turns her stomach, and she knows immediately that they're back in the fire thing, and her last coherent thought before they tear the dimension a new hole, is that she *has* to pay the Trickster back. In spades.


	8. We are Such Stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toni's walking, through the clouds, with a circus mind, that's running wild. Butterflies and Zebras and Moonbeams, and fairy tales, that's all she ever thinks about. She's riding with the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Note: I'd like to give special thanks to my beta, Chrystal Belle. Alone, I'm but a dwarf, my horizons meek. With you, I'm perched upon giants, my vision greatened. If there seems a marked increase in my work, it's directly thanks to her.
> 
> Additional Notes: Please see the sister chapter, "Our Little Lifes" for references on their titles and summaries. That chapter does not contain explicit content.
> 
> # !!Explicit warning!!
> 
> Explicit warning: This chapter contains very genderbending, moderately explicit material. It depicts both vaginal and anal penetration, oral sex performed on (almost)men and women, (kinda)incest, and masturbation.
> 
> If any of these things bother you, PLEASE DO NOT READ! An alternative, R rated version is available at: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10551811/8/The-Sacrifices-We-Make-3-Don-t-Let-It-Bring-You-Down
> 
> Trigger warning: Toni experiences some anxiety, and non-depicted flashbacks of her ordeal in Afghanistan while having sex with Loki. It's also implied that she may experience some sexual excitement from the memory of killing her captors.
> 
> If you believe this may bother you, PLEASE DO NOT READ! The aforementioned R rated version only implies these things, but still may be uncomfortable to some. You will lose a small amount of character development by skipping this chapter, but not enough to largely effect the story.

*** *** ***

A firm hand at the base of her neck, another pulling her hip to thigh; darkness floating about her senses, a strong set of lips at her mouth; a tongue teasing at the tip of her own, breasts pressing into breasts; and a world, filled with a wonderful erotic haze.

Toni was in the grips of a blissful kiss, and an expertly delivered one at that. Delivered, by the shapeshifting Trickster Goddess of fire and mayhem, and now, apparently, sex. Because really, that had to be another one of Loki's embodiments. If it wasn't, then that meant Toni'd never really been kissed before, and that was impossible, her sample size was just too large to be that mistaken.

Trying to shut her brain off, she further surrendered herself to the sensations. To the gentle slide of pouty flesh, to the firm flick of wet muscles, to the arousing massage of fingers, and to the burning breath of a hot sex against her thigh.

But Toni really had no idea where this was coming from. Loki'd given her a somewhat chaste kiss for giving her kids safe havens, and for giving the Trickster herself somewhere more permanent to live. Namely, a room on her floor in the tower. But then, the deity stormed her bed chambers, and just grabbed her, and just started taking her. No one, not anyone, would ever, or could ever, simply do that to the great and powerful Antonia Stark.

An instant of horror flashed vivid in her mind, drowning out the more pleasant now. But Toni pushed Afghanistan and the other best left suppressed memories from her mind. She really didn't need that shit ruining what Loki was doing to her, especially not while the Goddess sucked and nibbled a path down her neck. God, especially not while the Trickster teased and milked her breast, a thumb and forefinger leading the charge from chest to nipple. And holy christ, whatever magic that Trickster was casting at the base of her spine, if she'd stopped, Toni would've immediately died from sensory deprivation.

But Loki did stop, and caressed her way around to Toni's front, halting at a slightly quivering thigh. "May I Antonia?"

An interdimensional, basically omnipotent being, who could probably make the 'mere mortal' think whatever would bring her in line with the Goddess' desires, was asking permission.

"Yes! Now!" Toni groaned breathlessly, not wanting any misinterpretation of her reply. Or a delay, or anything else that'd prevent her from getting what she wanted.

Loki obliged, pressing skilled fingers into her sensitive clothed labia, and returned her demanding mouth and sharp inflaming teeth to her neck.

Nothing held Toni's body to the Trickster, yet there was a force pulling her close, making the Goddess' touch firmer, and making it impossible for her to squirm away from the tingling pressure building in her sex. Not that she wanted to squirm, if anything, she wanted more. So goddamn much more.

"Antonia." A soft caress over her shoulder blade, accompanied the equally soft voice.

And when Toni turned to sharply tell off whatever idiot would interrupt the breaking of her longest dry spell, she saw another Loki, wearing that oh so evil and attractive smirk. But before the shock, or the questions, could fully materialize in her mind, the second Loki pulled their mouths together, and crushed her lips in a kiss that was more aggressive, more pleasant, more heated, more, everything.

Toni floated in a sea of ecstasy, a wave of hands caressing the naked flesh of her back, one demanding at her clothed breast, and another rippling against the barrier over her sex. All while a skilled mouth assaulted the junction of her shoulder, and one probed and teased at her own.

She tried not to think, tried to abandon her analytical mind somewhere in null space. But it kept invading, kept trying to justify two Loki's instead of just enjoying it. It traitorously kept dragging her mind to the unrealness of the whole scenario.

God, she hated her brain sometimes, she hated not being able to just let go. Then, the Lokis guided her onto the bed, pushed and pulled her toward the pillows, peeled her shirt off over her head, and intensified their glorious assault.

It was the sweetest of blisses. Their hands caressing along her flesh, their lips sucking at her curves, their wet teeth scraping over her body, and their tongues flicking against her skin. Then, oh god, something hard yet yielding and oh so familiar, pressed into her back, nestling perfectly in the crease of her spine, but contrasting wildly with the soft breasts cradling her shoulders.

The feel of that singular warmth gently humping the valley of her vertebrae, inflamed Toni's imagination. But before she could overcome her lust struck haze, the Loki in front slowly, so goddamn slowly, slid her pants over her hips, kissing and licking a moist trail of wonderful as she pulled them over her butt; then, gently bit her thigh as the fabric disappeared down her legs.

The Loki at her back didn't remain passive while her Other did this, she caressed demanding fingers over Toni's stomach and waist, sucked and nibbled at her neck and shoulder, and when her double finished removing the restrictive clothing, she gently pulled her legs apart, giving the other Loki full and unrestricted access to Toni's newly exposed sex.

For an instant, a single pin-pricking instant, Toni panicked, felt trapped, needed to escape. The harsh unwanted memories were flooding in, biting at the back of her eyeballs, clawing at her temples. But Loki's warm breath and reverberating voice, pulled her back into the now.

"If it would please you Antonia, so too would it please me."

Who the hell talks like that? Who the hell asks a wet and wanting woman for permission so late in the game? But Loki *was* asking, and waiting, and fuck, was it ever melting her anxiety into impatient need.

Toni didn't answer with words, she was too far gone, too emotionally raw from the ups and downs, and way too goddamn horny. She just grabbed the offering Loki's head with one hand and pulled her in, with the other, she fisted as much of the other Loki's hair as possible and crushed their lips together.

Both Goddesses moaned into her body as one, and she writhed in reply, feeling as if the sound waves met in her middle to amplify and cascade back out, pulling and tugging at her insides as the Lokis played, as they pushed her into oblivion. But they were being too goddamn gentle, too careful.

They were treating her like Psyche, like a fragile little thing that'd break under their lust. And fuck! Toni loved lust, needed it, wanted it, wanted it right now. Gentleness, careful and measured caresses, they had their place, but not during the first fucking go. They were great for round two or three, but the first need-filled aching release, that was more about getting off, about racing your partner for the finish line, about getting what you wanted, and getting it right goddamn now.

As if they were reading her mind, which she was beginning to assume they probably were, they lifted her on top of the Loki behind, the one in front's mouth never leaving her sex, and that hard, yielding, familiarity popped out from between Toni's thigh and Loki's very feminine face.

In fact, both Tricksters were still completely female. That is, except for the porno grade erection staring up at her. Toni'd no idea if it'd been magically created, if it was what Loki looked like in her fully male form, or if, if...

The anxiety was back, worse than ever. She hadn't been with a man since... she hadn't even been with a transsexual... she just couldn't... the memories... the clawing at the back of her skull... the stinging at her eyes... Loki taking her other self into her hand... running her tongue from base to tip...

Toni shot up a little, eyes half wild. "Jesus christ Loki!"

Her fear and panic died, turned cold in her veins; then began crawling over her skin in extreme pervy fascination. Was it masturbation? Incest? Something better left undefined? And was Loki actually giggling at her while she gave herself a goddamn blowjob?!

"How-"

But the words crumbled into nothingness before Toni could even fully think them. Her brain wasn't just turned off, it was completely crashed, divide by zero, memory corrupted.

"With ease Antonia," Loki smirked, looking up through long thick lashes, and edging on taking her double into her mouth. "Would you care to see?"

Oh god yes, definitely, absolutely, whole heartedly. The mere thought of it burned in her middle, but all she could do to answer, was nod stupidly.

At her given reply, or was it permission, Loki swallowed the whole length of her other self, right down to her neatly trimmed pubic hair, and without as much as the tiniest choke, without a gag, but holy fucking christ, with the sexiest wet popping sound Toni's ever heard. Then she slowly lifted her head off her Other's lap, out from between Toni's spasming legs, the shaft slurping from her throat, and looked back up at Toni, eyes slightly red, a thick line of drool clinging from lip to tip.

"More Antonia?"

Was that a real question? Was she fucking kidding? Quick minute nods filled in for her mute thoughts, and her eyes grew wide as Loki repeated her prior action. Aggressively. Impatiently. Goddamn impressively.

The Loki behind, the one Toni was basically laying on, the one she was in the perfect position to replace Loki's mouth with her sex, moaned. Good god she moaned. She moaned as her hands drifted all over Toni's skin, moaned as she kissed and nuzzled her back, and oh god, moaned as her hips rocked in time to her Other's bobbing head.

This was insane. A goddess was teasing her, and teasing her in the most wonderfully perverted of ways. It's a fantasy Toni couldn't have come up with on her own, even in her nastiest moments. But it was happening, and she wanted it to happen, needed it to, needed it right fucking now.

She didn't ask, didn't suggest, she just reach down between them, under Loki's face, and grabbed the thick shaft out of the goddess' mouth. Then; sat up a little more, impaling herself on the spectacularly impressive erection, and didn't stop until every millimetre of it was inside. Even then, she flipped her hips back, taking Loki a little deeper, a slow hot sharpness threading through her middle as the goddess pushed against her cervix.

The Loki in front smiled with wicked glee, and upped the ante by taking Toni's clitoris between her lips. The slow, gentle sucking, and sharp slicing tongue, sent her hips into spastic bucking, and all but the most basic parts of Toni's mind, went into blissful coma.

She writhed against her partners, against lips and hips, floating in a cloud of delicious wetness, of swirling flashing ecstasy. She leaned forward, grinding her labia against Loki's soft crinkly pubic hair, sacrificing the sensation from that oh so demanding mouth for those few seconds.

When she was once again exposed to the Trickster, the evil goddess latched onto her, moaning and sucking with more force than Toni thought would be comfortable, but built a demanding pressure within that was beyond anything she's ever experienced.

Toni hesitated a microsecond, a nanosecond, a year. God she didn't want to lose that mouth again, but she needed to grind, needed to feel Loki deeper. The unfulfilled won out, but Loki followed as far as she could with her tricky, sexy tongue; then latched even quicker when Toni came back, slurping loudly, frantically.

But something was wrong, it wasn't enough. She was excited, more so than she'd ever been in her life, but she felt stifled, disconnected. Desperate. God she needed more, so much more. She could feel her reactor surging with her adrenalin and heart rate, pulsing with heat and EM, cascading energy along her nerve endings, but the mixture of sexual tension and the ARCs ungrounded static, went nowhere. They boiled just beneath her surface, stabbed at her from just under her id, and sent her frustration into critical meltdown.

She was more than ready to lash out, more than ready to tear her skin off and order every working Iron Suit to her side to force Loki to do her bidding. Her need and desperation and frustration twisted with the tightness in her gut, twisted into sadistic lust, and set her mind reeling with the most delicious tortures.

Before her frothing deviancy could work itself into a lather, Loki stopped mouthing her sex, and knelt unashamedly before her. An equally large and proud erection as the Other's, stood at attention between her very feminine legs.

"Oh my fucking god." Toni was about ready to have a heart-attack, could feel her reactor powering down to protect her and itself.

The Loki behind sat up, partially slipping from her want, and whispered in the breathiest, sexiest voice ever. "Goddess Antonia, oh *your* fucking goddess."

They shifted her forward, hands supporting her at hips and waist, the smooth hardness slipping from her sex, and brought her to the newly exposed Loki's body. But the Trickster didn't move from her kneeling position, forcing Toni into a half squat as they settled her into the goddess' lap, as they eased the full length of Loki back inside her.

The position was somewhat awkward. It forced Toni to hold on tighter around Loki's shoulders, and to dig the balls of her feet into the mattress to keep from sliding off, but it also allowed her thrusts more force. And for a few euphoric moments, that's all she did. Lift then slam herself into Loki's long, so god damn long... She didn't even mind the strange dulling of her senses any more, she wasn't thinking, wasn't panicking, she was just playing with her new toys.

But then Loki, fucking Tricky Sex Goddess Loki, pushed their moment even further. Her double behind, or was that the real one, Toni didn't really care at that point, stilled her hips, momentarily pausing her half wild movements. Then without warning, or ceremony, or the slightest hint of pain, slid herself into Toni's anus.

Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing. Not the Iron Suits. Not world peace. Nothing. Just skin sliding against skin and her desperately needed orgasm almost at her fingertips. Toni was the meat in a writhing Loki sandwich, and she was enjoying every microsecond of it. She felt filled, surrounded, tingly. Her sex and ass burned with need filled pressure. Her hands fisted with sheets of each Lokis' hair. Her skin tickled and burned from caresses and scratches. The only thing that'd make it better...

The Trickster had to be reading her mind, she had to. The moment the thought of satiating her oral fixation entered her mind, another Loki was standing before her, leg draped over Back Loki's shoulder, a very wet and wanting female sex in Toni's face.

This new Loki grabbed her, and shoved her mouth into her sex, and Toni took it without protest. She sucked and licked and slurped at the new treat with complete abandon, all while an uncountable of other Lokis fulfilled her every need. But something, some fucking awful hate filled thing, held her back from release.

She pressed her breasts harder into Loki's unmoving flesh, her nipples tingling and chafing. She twisted her hands harder into Loki's hair, her nails bending into their tips. She licked faster at Loki's clitoris, her tongue burning and drying with each swipe.

 

Toni's frantic for release, never needing it more in her life. She groans uncontrollably into the dimness, drags her body back and forth against her bed, fists at her sheets to near tearing, and gnaws at her pillow with complete abandonment. But it's not happening. God please why isn't it happening!?

Reality freezes, her body halts, and the world comes into cold focus.

"No, no, no, no, no, no." The uncaring room swallows her tormented bellows.

Toni slams her hands down into her empty bed. Then, because that felt good, pounds her feet into the mattress, smashes her head into her pillows, and generally throws a tantrum while destroying her linen.

"Fuck, shit, bastard, asshole, I HATE YOU," she screams. "You hear me reality, god, whatever you want to fucking call yourself! I fucking hate you and I *will* destroy you!" She rolls onto her side, tears welling in her eyes. "I'll destroy you," she whimpers.

It figures Loki'd duck out the moment she was about to cum. And it doesn't matter that it was a dream, she probably made Toni dream it as a joke anyways. A goddamn joke! Because being incredible then leaving a girl hanging is so funny! So goddamn funny that Toni's in hysterics! Crying and gnashing and tearing her hair out in hilarity!

"Fuck!"

Everything hurts, and stress's clawing at her temples and shoulders. She's beyond frustrated, beyond caring about anything besides her own discomfort, and way beyond caring that there's two freaky aliens meandering around her floor less than fifty feet from her door.

Toni flips over, rips the drawer out of the night stand, half spills the contents onto the floor, and tears Lance from his satin case. She doesn't need to ready herself, goddamn dream Loki already did that for her, she just needs to twist the regulator to full blast and sink every inch of its long girthiness into her body.

The sudden invasion feels good, the normally painfully fast vibrations feel good. But it's not enough, when did everything become not enough.

She flop crawls to the edge of the bed, and half dangles as she blindly gropes around the scattered remains, her free hand still thrusting Lance with every ounce of strength. Frustration builds when she can't immediately find what she's looking for, but a second later she triumphantly jerks her body back into the centre of the mattress, her dear little cyan bullet clutched in her greedy hand. A breath after that, and she stabs its nose harshly into her clitoris.

She's hurting herself with this frantic clutching for release, but if anyone else did anything half as violent to her body, she'd hit them. She'd killed those fuckers in Afghanistan, left Bakar to be beaten to death by those villagers.

Thoughts like that'd normally fill her with anxiety, but right now, watching those brutal images floating in her mind, they make her feel powerful, invincible.

She is invincible! The Invincible Iron Man! The super hero!

Her back arches off the bed, her fingers clench around the vibrators, her toes fist into the sheets, her body buzzes like when she'd chased the tomahawk, and the whole of her existence implodes into a singularity.

"Frih'ah." Her groan is so hard, so guttural, it hurts her throat.

Then her singularity nova's; radiates hot chills over her skin, sends shock-waves through her muscles, explodes blinding flashes of white-blue into her eyes. Her inner self expands to fill every inch of the universe, her being bleeding out into reality, her every stress dissipating like the heat death of the universe. She is a god, a creator of worlds.

*** *** ***

For a few moments, Toni wallows in her high. She's out of breath, and achy, and her reactor's still under surge control, but she feels better, calmer. Still royally pissed off, but better. Getting off alone is never as good as the real thing. It's like comparing sugar to sweetener. They trick your body into accepting basically nothing as substitute, but they also do precious little to fulfil your underlying biologic needs.

Damn, her brain's back online, back to its fully operational and annoying self. Why can't she get just five more minutes of blissful oblivion? Why does it always have to come back and mock her?

The last dregs of her frustration explode in her chest, bursting to life from right behind her reactor, gnawing its way over her shoulders. She throws her battery powered sweeteners against the wall to vent it, to let out as much of her disappointment as she can, to make her displeasure known to the universe. But the universe doesn't give a happy sappy crap about one human demanding Loki candy.

Toni groans as she rolls over and hides her head under her pillow. Did she really just refer to Loki as candy? What the hell's wrong with her head lately? First she agrees to shelter the twisted interdimensional being; then she goes out and collects her kids to shelter as well; then she invites the Trickster to live with her; then she has the greatest sex dream ever. And dream sex with dream Loki, it'd been better than most any real sex she's had with anything else.

Anyone, she meant anyone. Anyone else she's slept with. Oh god, she isn't that much of a using bitch is she? She couldn't be. If she was, she would've created a sex bot years ago. She likes *being* with someone, or someones. She likes the closeness, the intimacy, the complete abandonment, even if it is, just for a night. And she likes that they want her, that the world really does see her as a sex goddess.

Shit, can't she think of something better than just liking it, can't she at least think that she craves it, that it's some grand unique part of herself? Can't she at least think of herself as just a goddamn nympho, and *not* some kind of a hedonistic mass of careless whore?!

Toni buries herself deeper into the safety of her pillows, hiding even further from the emptiness of the room. And, from the overly idiotic world beyond.

Emotions stink, and having to be cognisant of other people's feelings stink even harder. Guh, a sex bot'd be easier. She wouldn't have to worry about being there for it, wouldn't have to take its needs into consideration. And if she drowned in her own genius for an overly long time with it, it wouldn't care.

It wouldn't care. That's the crux of the problem. Toni wants to be cared for, wants to be loved. She wants some minuscule part of the lie-filled fairytale...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first sex/erotic scene I've ever published/posted. So, any feedback would be appreciate. Even if you think it's garbage, please tell me, but please, could you let me know *why* you think that?


	9. Our Little Lifes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Loki's sad, she comes to be, with a thousand smiles, she gives to her free. It's alright, she says, it's alright, take anything you want from me, anything. She's flying on little wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The summaries are minor rewrites of Jimi Hendrix's Little Wing, and the titles are a split quote from Shakespeare's The Tempest.

Loki could taste the magic floating through her being, feel the influences playing through her mind. It was not unpleasant, on the contrary, it felt as though the casters cared for her deeply. But, the sources were many, three at the least. Normally she could distinguish one seidkona from another, these seidr however, were too similar for Loki to separate and examine. It was as if... as if, they were all related.

Each vigja pulled her in the same direction, to the same place, to the shadows of Myrkvidr. She knew the area well, an overgrown wood seldom travelled, but one which held the most terrible of beauties. The marriage of those two ideals most naturally meant that it was one of Loki's favourite places in all of Asgard.

She had played and studied there as a child, hid amongst the trees and animals testing her friends to find her, gathered materials for her seidr, and of course, met a vast majority of her trysts there. Many an evening would see she and Sigyn making love by the brook, as babes Jörmungandr and Fenrir played about the gnarly trees, as children she and Snotra, Sága, Hlin, Sjöfn, Vár, and Vör, beckoned the old growth to speak to them. It was the meetings with her mother however, which came most vivid to her addled mind.

Frigg would often summon Loki's hugr to the banks of her favourite shore, where they would watch the life in the stream, make wishes upon stones, and speak of their aspirations for Loki's future. She truly hoped that it was her mother summoning her, a chance to sit and speak with her mother, a moment of kindness and understanding. It was more than she could dare to wish.

Her hamr began to coalesce, the world around solidifying. She found herself huddled beneath an old Hazelnut tree, its many fingered trunk barely touching her back. She found her mouth most deeply engaged with Antonia's, sharing a kiss which was smooth, relaxed, and quite obviously, entirely drunken from lovemaking.

She lost all sense of now, and fell into the beautiful Mortal Goddess' demands. They were naked, hidden beneath the over grown canopy of the tree, and enjoying the other's body. Antonia rested in Loki's lap, shamelessly caressing at the Trickster's breast and neck, while Loki teased at the Mortal's soaked thigh.

"Mmm," Antonia hummed. "Where're the other yous?"

"I did not think we needed them still." Loki kept her face close to her companion's, further intoxicating herself on the Mortal's scent. "Do you wish them returned?"

"No," she sighed; then rolled and repositioned herself so that she could bury her face into the Trickster's stomach, idly kissing and licking the salt from the muscled abdomen before her.

"Are you comfortable my Darling?"

"Most, Loki dear, most." Then Antonia began to giggle.

"May I know what tickles at you so?"

"Nothing really, just talking like a Shakespeare in the park type."

"I see. Would it suit you more if I were to speak as Lori?"

Antonia unhid an eye to glare up at Loki. "You do and I'll..." She snuggled back. "Do... Something..." Then sighed. "I'm way too comfy to throw insults right now. And my butt hurts too good to be funny."

The Dark Goddess smirked. "And why is that my Mortal Darling?"

"Because you've been riding it like a drunken frat boy who's gone without for a month and a half, an-uh's been offered ass for the first time in his half-impotent little life."

"You suggest that I am somehow impotent?" Loki caressed a hand over said well abused bottom, as her companion giggled. "If so, I can offer a demonstration to the contrary."

"Maybe in five or ten, it's been a while you know."

"For me as well."

Loki fought at the false memories and sadr binding her to this place, but they were far too strong, and for some unfathomable reason, she had not the heart to truly struggle.

"Lokes," Antonia sighed, "which one was the real you?"

"Your pardon my dear?"

"I counted about three yous, maybe more. So, which you was the real you?"

"Four, dearest Mortal. And what omen did your simple eye perceive to think any not me?"

"Don't be mean Loki."

Unthinkably, the Dark Goddess found herself obeying the idiotic request, and heard her voice soften. "All Antonia, all. Each breathed my breath, each thought my thoughts, and each," she caressed feather light fingertips down the Mortal's back, "loved your body at my pleasure."

"Hmmm," Antonia sighed, every stress and worry emptying hotly from her mouth. "I wonder what it feels like to have two dicks."

"You could know, if you wished."

The Mortal's eyes snapped to Loki's, and sea of unreadable desires shining in the blue gaze. "You could turn me into a man?"

"If that is your desire."

"Just for sex," Antonia qualified, "and only once in a while."

Loki's elegant brow lifted. "One's soul blossoms at novelty, but wilts in a body not their own."

"Huh?"

Her annoyance ebbed for a moment, but quickly subsided. "If I were to make you a man for longer than is necessary, you would soon grow despondent."

Antonia looked upon the Dark Goddess as if she were the simplest creature in all the realms. "I got that part Loki. What I don't get, is how *you* can exist as either indefinitely."

Loki shrugged. "Perhaps I am both, or neither. I know not for certain. I have existed as many creatures with ease and comfort, but so to, if I take not the form most easiest to me, I too become... displeased."

"You mean you go nuts and terrorize everyone around you?"

"Something of that nature." She smiled.

"Hmmm," the Mortal sighed once again, and once again, sank deeper into the God's form. "I wonder what I'd look like if I were a guy... Robert Downey Junior maybe?"

"Antonia... that was truly, terrible."

Loki found herself enjoying this dreamscape far more than she believed she should. She could feel her love and affection churning just beneath her breast, contentment cooling her raging chest, and calm floating within her troubled mind. Each breath, each touch from the Mortal, felt as a salve upon her skin. It was a state Loki had not known since the loss of her Beloved Sigyn. Since the departure of Dearest Snotra.

But this was nothing more than a binding, than the will of three as yet unknown wills, and Loki wished not to trust them, no matter their familiarities. The reasoning behind this trick was a mystery to her, a direction without purpose, a chorus without words. She was also certain that Antonia occupied this dream space with her, that the memories of their tryst was shared. But to what end would one make them experience this, what manipulation were they hoping to accomplish.

"You think your kids'll be happy where they are?"

Loki noted that Antonia wish to know the desires of her kin, and not the God's own. "I believe they will find your choices for them quite pleasing."

"We can move them anywhere they want you know. I just thought they'd like where they are." A pause. "Except the snake, why'd he want to stay here?"

Anger burst in the God's chest, but for some unfathomable reason, she did not toss the Mortal aside. "Call not my son as such, he is Jörmungandr, no common serpent, and he is worthy of your respect."

Antonia showed not a single hint of remorse or fear. "But why here? Fenrir is frolicking around Yellowstone, Sleipnir's luxuriating in a posh stable, probably trying to sire a whole new generation, yet, *he's* here, in isolation, with nothing to explore except air-ducts and elevator shafts."

Loki thought upon her son's reasoning for a moment. It was the purest of truths that the Mortal could have allowed Jörmungandr to live anywhere. On some level, Antonia acted as if she were queen of this realm, as if her every whim could grow into reality. But her Eldest Darling Boy chose to stay at her side.

"I believe he does so for me," Loki answered truthfully, and as to why she did, it escaped her understanding. "My son frets for my sanity, worries over my lack of company." She gave herself a genuine smile. "A mother could wish for no better a boy." The joy faded. "But it pains me that he spend so much of himself on me, and far too little on his own likings."

"You *are* a hot mess Lokes..."

The Dark Goddess began to seethe.

"...I can see why he'd want to protect you from yourself."

"As much as your son wishes to protect you?" Loki felt the Mortal freeze against her side.

"What're you talking about?"

"Only that JARVIS expends much effort in keeping you from yourself as well."

A breeze began to pickup around the two, and the already dull sky, darkened.

"JARVIS is *not* my child," Antonia's voice was harsh, angry. "He's more author to himself than anyone else on this planet."

A spark of mischievous evil joy, burned in Loki's chest. "Come now, I am the God of Lies, and the untruth of this spews from your lips like vomit."

The Mortal leapt to her feet. "He's a hyper advanced AI who started growing on his own with very little effort from me."

The God shifted to appear reclined in leisure, to appear more relaxed. "Truly? Then your feelings of pride are... Delusion?"

Antonia whirled around on the Trickster, her form appearing to grow with her agitation. "I'm very proud of him, and why shouldn't I be? He's the most advanced thing on this planet, master of himself, and teeming with potential. It wouldn't take much for him to make himself alive."

"You think him inanimate, Mortal? You wish to degrade your child to comfort yourself?"

Leaves began to tear from their branches, dust twisted into devils, the distant grey clouds turned orange, and the ground seemed to hollow.

"Fuck you Liesmith," Antonia yelled as she menaced herself at Loki. "You don't know a Goddamn thing. You come here and invade my life, my privacy; then throw this fantasy at me thinking that'll make up for everything you've done to me-"

"I've done nothing to you Mortal but save your life-"

"Shut up Loki!"

The ground began to shake, thin lines of earth fell between unseen cracks, fire and lightening lit the sky.

"Don't you dare speak to me about children," Antonia continued furiously. "You who's suffer so much through your children! How could you even think to throw that in someone else's face!"

"You lie to yourself Stark, do not lie to me-"

"I don't owe you a damn thing! Especially not the truth! You entitled, little, shit!"

The world of their dreamscape was crumbling, replaced with anger and pain.

"I am a God!" Loki boomed. "You should feel yourself privileged that I ask you not to bow!"

"A God!?" Antonia's armour appeared around her form in a blink. "You think your better than me!? Than anyone else on this screwed up planet!?"

Loki's own armour and staff morphed out of her skin.

"You're an alien, an organism, a creature! Nothing more!"

Flames shot from growing wounds in the dirt, the stripped trees whipped wildly in tumultuous air, and the sky boiled with fury.

"You're no better than any other worthless entity," the raging Mortal spat. "You take and take and think it's your birthright! You covet your children like possessions!"

"I cherish my babes! Unlike you, who denies them!"

The repulsor blast from the Woman of Iron's hand was far more powerful than it would have been in reality, and Loki found herself being thrown backward into the dieing earth.

"You seek to bury your pain," Loki stabbed back with words, "to hide from it! I morn the loss of my child, I bleed for him! You plead mindlessly for your's return, while ignoring the existence of another! You sully her death with-"

This time the impact burned the God's hugr.

"Shut!" Antonia fired another shot. "Up!" And another. "Dee's alive because I let her go!" She sent the Trickster spinning like a top. "I'm selfish!" A blast barely missed the Asgardian, thermal-shocking the ground right next to her. "I want her in my life every fucking goddamn day!" She hit the Trickster's leg. "But I'm not as selfish as you!" Her hip. "Your children suffer constantly because of you!" Her chest. "Because you'd rather cling to them than let them hide!"

The God deflected a bright burst of energy with her staff. "You know not of what you speak Mortal! You lessen your children by denying them!"

An unworldly bellow of rage echoed through the dying world, modulated to unnatural levels and disposition by Antonia's suit. Then, a flash brighter and more insistent than any she'd ever experienced, and Loki awakes in her bed.

 

Slowly, she looks upon her chamber, at her childhood retreat magicked into the confines of the room Antonia lent onto her. Nothing is out of place, and the seidr which bound her only moments before, is completely gone. As if it had never existed. But it had, had it not? The dream was not simply a nightmare, an apparition from somewhere deep in her mind. And yet, no matter how powerful Antonia Starks will could be, she is simply a mortal, and could not hope to overpower Loki, even in dreams.

She closes her eyes, searching her memories of the encounter. There were three distinct entities there with her, all powerful, two focused, one drifting. The anger most certainly came from the unfocused one. One of the remaining two had tried to sooth the rage, to calm Loki and the Anger both, but the fury won out.

The last however, as focused as it was, was disjointed, as if the caster allowed their seidr a mind of its own. A powerful but dangerous course. It bound them together without thought, without concern, and if not for the tempering influence of the calming one, Loki would have found herself seriously injured.

Who would do this to her? Who would join with two others to bind the God with an uncontrolled anger; then protect her. Many have reason to be as raging against Loki as the image of Antonia had been, but no one would expose her to such a thing only to protect her.

She rolls out of bed, magics Midgardian clothes onto herself, and storms to Antonia Stark's door. She carefully pushes her mind into the void beyond, probing for anything familiar, or out of place. She finds nothing but the undreaming form of the Mortal. Not a hint of magic embered in the room.

It could not have been Antonia.

"Ms Loki?" Enquires JARVIS. "May I assist you with something?"

But then whom had she philandered? It feels as though the image she shared herself with was Antonia, though, she had felt a complete loss of control.

"Ms Loki? Is there something wrong?"

The God comes back to herself. "No dear JARVIS. I am well."

"Are you sure ma'am?"

"Yes JARVIS, I am certain." She pauses a moment. "Thank you for your concern."

"Very well Ms Loki. Is there something you require?"

Staring beyond the confines of the realm, into the soul of Yggdrasil, the dream drifts through the Dark Goddess' mind. "Your mother is very proud of you."

Unnatural silence fills the hall, and an eternity to an AI ticks by. Then finally, he responds. "I know."

They regard each other a moment more, until, JARVIS intentionally breaks the silence.

"Is there something you require?"

"No, I require nothing."

"As you wish ma'am."

Loki takes a breath to settle her questing thoughts. She would not, could not find the answers. To attempt to do so, might attract the unwanted attention of the Others, and she is not ready to do so now. She needed to wait, to bide her time, and perhaps, form closer alliances.

Breathing once more, the Dark Goddess drifts into the large sitting space, and stops next to the couch which holds her coiled son. Her son, who is staring into the fool creation Midgardians call, TV.

"What is it that you are doing My Boy?"

"This Mother," Jörmungandr answers without turning from the screen, "is called, Star Trek: The Next Generation."

"And," Loki continues bewildered, "you enjoy this?"

"Yes Mother, I believe I enjoy it very much."

Jörmungandr has chosen a rather small size for himself, only nine feet long, and nearly a foot wide. Far less than his usual length of one hundred. His smooth emerald face and glowing black eyes, shift colour slightly as the light moves about them. His sleek, perfectly scaled body, lay in a loose coil upon the cushions of the sofa, his chin, rests upon its arm, and his tail, flops in slow waggles. To Loki, he appears the epitome of adolescent sloth.

"Will you remain as you are for the entirety of the day My Dear?"

The God-Serpent continues to ignore his Mother. "No. I do intent to eat. At some point."

"Are you in a mood Dearest One?"

"No mother."

Loki becomes agitated. "Look at me Boy."

Jörmungandr slowly turns to regard the other God, his movements deliberate, his eyes clear. But when Loki sees a gleam in his indifference, she abruptly turns for the elevators.

"Why must all my children be petulant so." She stops; then turnes on her Boy. "You may think yourself humourful now, but when the trick is upon you, we will see how delightful it be."

"Mother?" Jörmungandr begins kindly. "Please be not troublesome? Please be mindful that we are unwelcome guests in this realm?"

"Do you think me a complete lack of control Boy?"

The God-Serpent only stares.

"Well then." Loki straightens. "I see. I am correct to assume you wish to watch over me."

"I love you deeply Mother dear, and I only wish of you peace and joy."

"A sorely lacking commodity my son."

"No mother," Jörmungandr shakes his head sadly, "it floats about like smoke. Impossible to grasp if one tries, easy to be surrounded with if one is only to embrace it."

The God rolls her eyes. "You are a romantic my Son, clothed in endless hopelessness."

"Mother?"

Loki stays silent for his comment.

"Please be not troublesome?"

She huffs. "Very well my Dearest. I give you my word, I will behave."

"Swear it upon my life."

The entirety of Loki's body shakes for an instant. "No."

"Please Mother, for me? I must know that you will be safe, and as well as I know my own body, I know you will not allow harm to come upon me."

"I would not do such a thing for any Jörmungandr. Not for any reason."

"Then I must tell you, if you are endangered, I will come to your side, and I will not take on an oath to the contrary."

"You will not be persuaded from this?"

The God-Serpent lifts up taller, straighter. "Nothing in Yggdrasil would do so."

Loki's heart sinks. "Very well My Son." She has no plans to seek trouble, but if it finds her, she would keep her Darling Boy from it, no matter what he thinks to the contrary.

She regards Jörmungandr for a moment longer; then, retreats into the waiting elevator, thoughts floating about her head. Her children are her world, her only reason for living. She would offer her life without question to save them, or to bring her Darling Babe Nari back. And she knows Antonia to be suffering, the intensity of her pain at JARVIS' suspected injury is evidence of that. But if the Mortal had not lost a child, then why does she bleed so? Why does she act as if nothing in the world were good?

"Who is Dee?" The God questions the unemptiness.

The elevator reaches its destination, but the lord of all things within this structure, chooses to leave the doors closed. Silence stretches on into eternity, but while Loki cannot sense JARVIS' thoughts, she can sense his scrutiny, his apprehension.

"A mother deprived of her child is a most dangerous thing. She will lash out with all her strength, she will wish to burn the world with her pain, and, she will punish herself for her failures."

The nothingness continues, enveloping both Loki and JARVIS in its bleak confines.

"I have no available data on this subject for you," the AI finally replies.

Crestfallen, Loki resigns herself to unravel the mystery without his aid.

"Lunar Saros 149."

The God quirks a brow as the doors open. She has not a clue what the Construct means, but JARVIS would not speak such a cryptic thing if it were not of importance. There is work to be done this day however, so the mystery will have to wait, but soon, soon she will find the frayed thread to this hidden truth; then she will tug upon it until all is brought into the light of day.

It never occurs to her however, to question why she would wish to bring about such a revelation.


	10. In Words; in Deeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toni's doomed. Not only is she obsessing over Loki, JARVIS thinks a relationship would be a good idea!

Sighing heavily, Toni pulls the pillow harder over her head, and tries to shut out her introspection... and Loki. God, she really needs to get laid, for real, not for dream.

Another breath, and another outgassing of plasmafied tension. She moves her head a little out from under the pillow, but only enough to expose her mouth; then attempts to distract herself with some pointless banter.

"JARVIS, what's the conditions of Mark 11, Rescue, and Scout."

"Components for the Mark 11 have arrived and prefabrication can begin as soon as the prototyping machines are loaded."

Toni smiles faintly as his voice calms her. "Kay, get some intern or something on it."

"Of course Ms Stark." He pauses. "Iron Scout's construction continues to hold at ninety-five percent completion, pending your intervention."

She hums.

"Iron Rescue is complete and is ready for Ms Potts to begin testing." JARVIS is silent again, waiting his creator's grunt of acknowledgement. When she says nothing, he prompts her. "Ms Stark, perhaps, 'operation get Pepper into a suit' will progress more quickly if she were informed of Rescue's existence." 

"That's not the way this works J."

"Of course Ms Stark," his reply almost sounds exacerbated. "The memory region containing that information must have become corrupted."

Toni groans as she rolls onto her back, but keeps the pillow securely over her head. "JARVIS, could you please not give me a hard time this morning? I'm not in a very good mood."

"My apologies ma'am."

"Thank you." She lies quietly for a few minutes, but her brain has already kicked into overdrive, already started poking and prodding. "How long was I making a fool out of myself?"

"I'm unaware of behaviour which would be classify-"

"JARVIS," Toni shouts, her emotions swinging back into the uncomfortable. "How long was I moaning like an idiot."

The AI doesn't answer right away, but eventually. "Twenty-two minutes, nine seconds."

The Inventor whines a little.

"Would you like milliseconds listed?"

"Don't start with me J."

"My apologies Ms Stark, I was unaware-"

"JARVIS! If I get up will you stop trying to aggravate me!"

"Yes," the AI says simply.

Toni rolls out of bed, marches to the bathroom, scoops her toys off the ground on the way, dumps them into the sink; then slips into her opulent shower. At the press of a single button, the six heads begin pelting her with the perfect temperature water. She stands in the deluge for a few seconds, just existing in the warm artificial rain, not thinking about a goddamn thing. Especially not Loki.

Grunting, the Inventor places her hands on either side of one of the downpours and looks up into the gentle stream. Loki... Hot, sexy, alluring, insane, Loki. Liar Loki. Shapeshift to be anything Toni wants her to be, Loki. She slaps the wet marble in frustration, trying desperately to not get turned on.

"May I make a suggestion?"

"Please J." Toni's thankful for the AI's interruption.

"I suggest that you attempt to explore a relationship with whomever is causing your frustration."

"Are you out of your electronic mind!" She fears moving even an inch, the desire to give into the idea, sitting only a hair's breath beyond her perceptions.

"May I remind you of the consequences of not doing so?"

JARVIS asks it like a question, but Toni knows better, the pause is just for dramatics. She really wishes he was less like her.

"During the peak of your infatuation with Ms Potts, you attempted suicide by inaction."

That was enough to prod the Inventor into moving, and to stare daggers at the closest camera. "I was not, for one millisecond, wanting to die."

"My mistake Ms Stark. Your lack of motivation to abate the poisoning was a tactical decision."

"JARVIS." She glares harder. "Go. Away."

"Very well Ms Stark," the AI responds calmly. "Would you like me to order your breakfast?"

"I, am not, joking. For the next ten minutes, I want every feed, every sensor, everything, in this room, off. Got it?"

Toni remains still for a moment more, just to be sure he's respecting her wishes; then, turns back to the stream.

It's never felt good to be completely alone, and having JARVIS watching twenty-four seven does wonders to make her feel normal. Without him, she'd still be hitting the bottle pretty hard, but there's a downside to walking around with her anchor at her side. Constant nagging. He means well, and she *does* need it, but still, she'd give up every dime of her fortune to have one day where she didn't feel aggravated. Where she didn't need some kind of escape.

Loki could do that, she had the power to. They could be in a fulfilling monogamous relationship, but still explore every shape available to mankind. She could test Toni's intelligence, give her challenges.

"Or ruin my life." She rubs vigorously at her scalp, stress beginning to melt off her skin.

Loki's a good cuddler, and the idea of being a man for a few hours has merit. But then it went down hill, they started talking about...

Toni shakes her head, that wasn't how it happened. Had it? They hadn't climaxed; then cuddled. She'd woken up, finished herself off. She looked down at her hand, feeling the ghosted echo of a repulsor blast in her palm.

She'd felt angry, enraged, she'd wanted to hurt the Asgardian. Badly. There'd been a spark in the back of her mind, screaming, raging, lashing out. Her whole body felt like energy, like radiation tearing from inside. She hadn't saw Loki as the alien who risked the whole world, she saw her as...

"I need a drink."

"Do you wish me to recite *the* statement Ms Stark?"

"No J," she almost cries. "But thank you."

"Are you feeling unwell ma'am?" JARVIS' voice is tinged with concern.

"No... I want Loki."

"Then might I suggest that you attempt to pursue her?"

"No," she violently snatches her body wash off the shelf, "you may not."

The silence swells into the room, pressing harshly into Toni's psyche, and it only takes a minute for her to relent.

"Tell me why," she pauses, gathering calm from the feel of the soap against her skin. "Please."

"If Ms Loki rejects your advances, you will lose interest. If she accepts them, you will rid your system of the currently unwanted desires. However, if you attempt to ignore them, you will obsess."

"Yeah, I will."

"Ms Stark," JARVIS ventures, "might I make a suggestion you may disagree with?" He continues before she can respond. "You're only human."

Toni rolls her eyes. "Cyborg J. Technically, I'm a cyborg. And," she points, "fairly jazzed by that fact."

"Of course Ms Stark."

"It's not a good idea."

"I predict a high probability that the relationship will result in substantial property damage."

"I could piss her off and she could kill me."

"I predict a moderately high probability that you may die at her hands."

"She'll probably lie and manipulate me to no end."

"I agree."

Toni takes a deep breath. "Then why JARVIS?"

The AI stays silent for a moment. "I predict a higher probability that you'll damage yourself if you attempt to ignore the situation."

"Am I really that unstable? And *that* uncontrollable, even to myself?"

"Yes."

She turns slowly to the camera. "Well thank you so much for that boost in confidence."

"I believe a realistic analysis of the current situation is of greater importance than attempting to boost your self-confidence."

"I love you so much J, but you're the biggest pain in the ass."

"Thank you Ms Stark. I do try my best."

Toni sighs again, and again, tension ebbs from her body.

"Ms Loki enquired as to whom Dee was."

And just like that, every ounce of stress needles its way back in. "Did you tell her."

Another unnecessarily lengthy pause, leads JARVIS' answer. "As instructed, I did not reveal DeeDee's identity."

"But you think you should have..."

"No Ms Stark."

"You're lying to me JARVIS." Antonia slams the bottle back onto the shelf. "I can tell when you're lying, don't lie to me JARVIS, just don't do it."

"I'm not Ms Stark."

Toni growls.

"I believe however, that you should speak to Ms Loki about her."

"Why? Because misery loves company? Because giving in to some self-indulgent bullshit will make me feel better? No JARVIS, Dee's gone, and she's not coming back."

"May I make an observation Ms Stark?"

Toni turns on the camera to expose her boiling rage. "Say 'Ms Stark' again J, I dare you."

"This is the first instance you've used that name in five-hundred and forty-one days."

That couldn't be true. But even if it was, it doesn't matter, life is life, and reality, reality.

"I believe current events coupled with the presents of Ms Loki's children and the admission of her loss, has altered your perspective."

"Stop talking JARVIS."

"I also believe you're in the beginning stages of another breakdown which requires immediate attention before it becomes unmanageable." 

"I told you this topic wasn't open for debate."

"Given your current occupation inattention will lead to life threatening injuries."

"Are you even listening to me!?"

"I also believe that had Ms Loki and an iteration of myself not intervened you would have allowed yourself to die."

Toni fumes.

"I've observed an increasing demonstration of reckless heroics since the aborted efforts to form a relationship with Ms Potts. I've also observed an increasing build up of tension between yourself and Ms Darcy, as well as an unusually high level of aggression toward Captain Rogers." He pauses, observing his creator's completely motionless state. "You've begun to comment on your need for a drink more frequently."

"I don't have a death wish," she asserts.

"I disagree."

"Nothing matters more than the mission J, not even my life. I had an opportunity to save hundreds of thousands of lives, while at the same time strike a devastating blow at the aliens."

"Had you succeeded, you would've accomplished your task. However, you would have failed your overall mission objective."

Toni shakes her head. "How the hell do you figure that?"

"The lack of an existence, would greatly affect your ability to protect the world in the future."

"You're a pain in the ass J."

"Thank you." The AI almost sounds proud.

A huff dislodges all the emotions lurking under Antonia's anger, and she tries not to cry as she slides down the wall. J's probably right, she's not being attentive, not thinking far enough into the future. It might also be why she's obsessing over a very dangerous and unreliable not-god. Might be why she's been emotionally relying on Pepper more and more.

Too much emotional stuff is happening at once, and her mind just can't keep up. Give Toni a technological or scientific problem, and she can split her attention twenty ways from Tuesday. Make her care about more than a handful of things, and she falls apart. Fuck she wishes she was normal.

"I've observed Ms Loki, 'checking you out'."

Despite herself, Toni looks up. "You have?"

"Yes. Also, while in your presence, her overall reading throughput drops ninety-five percent."

"Anything else," her eyebrow quirks drolly.

"Thermographic imaging suggests sexual excitement."

"What?" Toni gets a god hot?

"Infrared scans of Ms Loki's vaginal area, increases from twenty-four, to thirty-five degrees Celsius in your presence."

"How often."

"On nearly every occasion."

Seducing Loki is a bad idea. If Pepper ever found out, she'd quit. Thor would probably knock her head off. She might find her name on Odin-jerk's hit list right beside the Trickster's. And what the hell would mommy-god do to her. Seducing Loki, is a very, bad, idea.

"But she'll probably reject me out of course," Toni hopes.

"That may be likely."

"Humans are basically animals to them."

"An over simplification, but you may be largely correct."

"Fuck," she spits as she slaps the ground.

"Ms Stark?"

"Loki's not exactly shy about zoophilia. My luck, she'd think the whole idea an interesting distraction." Toni considers it for a moment. "This is a terrible idea JARVIS."

"The alternative is not preferable."

"God J, you make me sound like I have absolutely no control over my libido, or that I'm a complete slave to my infatuations."

"We each have our limitations."

The entirety of Antonia's body deflates as she stares exacerbated into the camera.

"My apologies Ms Stark."

"You're not sorry J," she gets up to finish showering, "not in the least."

"Perhaps a fatal flaw in my programing matrix."

"Perhaps your just too much like me."

"Perhaps."

Toni smiles. JARVIS might not be alive, but he's pretty goddamn close.

Shower done, stress and frustration moderately abated, she grabs the first thing in her closet that catches her eye, and prepares to head out into the day. Nothing specific's on her agenda, besides trying to whip Loki up into a useful and productive frenzy, but something's planning itself in the back of her mind. She doesn't know what it is yet. At the moment, it's just a feeling, a sense of direction collecting ideas and thoughts just behind her consciousness. But it feels big. Maybe she'll come up with something like her Iron Suits, but not *them* of course, something different, something...

Toni's mental ramble falls flat on its face, her heart starts trying to bash her reactor apart, and every hair on her body stands on end.

A microsecond later, she remembers that the big frightening snake that just horror movied its head over the horizon of the couch, is supposed to be there, and lashes out with her diminishing fear.

"Don't ever do that again! See this," she points to her reactor, "it means I have a heart condition, and it means you!" she gabs at him angrily, "don't act creepy. Got it?"

Jörmungandr nods; then turns and ducks away out of Toni's line of sight. She rounds her now defiled, never going to be comfortable on it again, piece of furniture, and watches as a limbless serpentes pokes at a StarkTab with its tail.

"I beg your forgiveness Lord Antonia," JARVIS recites. "It was not my intention to cause you alarm. Your hospitality is most appreciated, and I humbly ask for your patients when my form is in view."

Toni's eyes narrow into near slits. "Inherited Loki's silver tongue did you?"

"It is my sincerest hope that you take my words as I intend them Lord, as the extreme gratitude of a brother who knows his siblings are well cared for, and as son of a being who many view as villain."

"So... you're denying you've got her way with words." If it was possible for a snake to smile, the Inventor would've bet he just did.

"Not at all your Lordship," he bows as his words are spoken. "Of my kin, I am considered the diplomat. Not a common trait for an eldest born."

"Hum. And what do you consider the traits of an only child?"

"Selfishness, a desire for singular attention, a lack of understanding that others will not always agree with them."

Toni purses her lips and crosses her arms. "Honest, to the point, untainted by sugar coating." She makes the appearance of thinking for a moment. "Fine, I don't hate you. But I also do not, *NOT*, like snakes. Probably has something to do with you guys looking like detached sentient penises."

Jörmungandr's eyes widen and he hisses before turning to type with an apparent measure of disdain. "A penis? How wretched Lord Antonia. That you would think me such a dirty and oft misused, insignificant appendage."

"Was that supposed to be a joke..."

"It was," he flicks is tongue as he wobbles slightly.

"Are you... Are you laughing?"

Jörmungandr curls further into himself; then hides his head under a coil. Antonia, steadfastly refuses to allow herself to think the display, cute.

"I believe he is, Ms stark," JARVIS supplies, sounding far too amused.

"Now you look like a turd."

The Serpent quickly pops out of his ball, and begins typing feverishly. "I *am* quite fertile Lord Antonia."

"A shit joke," Toni drolls; then shakes her head as she heads to the counter. "I really need friends."

"I believe you have a number of friends Ms Stark," JARVIS asserts.

"If I did, I wouldn't be hanging out with a smart-alicky reptile." She grabs her cup of waiting coffee.

"I beg your forgiveness," Jörmungandr continues to weave slightly, "I have been in seclusion for over a year. And trapped with my kin for several centuries before. I have become..." He tails his lips a moment. "Easily amused."

"I'm sure." Toni pauses to organize her thoughts again. And to firmly stick her prejudice in the pit with the rest of her unwanted attributes. "Make yourself at home Jor. Ask JARVIS to order you whatever you want, I'm not even going to begin to guess what that could be. But stay out of sight. Pepper *will* flip if she sees you, and, will probably make the connection; then kill us all."

"Connection?"

"An asgardian, an intelligent snake... Not too many fit the criteria." 

"I see." He lays the majority of his extended body on the back of the couch, but maintains average sitting person height. "I may be able to assist with Mother's debt. Though I am not a Gandr, I am well versed in the teachings."

"Sure," Antonia shrugs, "whatever you want. Though not my primary intention, I'm sure with you guys here, Loki will be much better behaved and far more likely to produce."

Jörmungandr looks away, something close to conflict colouring his inhuman face. "I would not rely too strongly on those assumptions your Lordship. Mother," he turns further from the Inventor's gaze, "can be unthinking at times. While her disposition is rarely intentionally mean-spirited, she can be vicious given the right circumstances."

"Such as?"

"If she truly believes she is undeserving of some form of castigation."

Antonia swallows the remains of her coffee, buying a little time to organize her thoughts. "I'm going to tell you this as plainly as I can Jor. Loki, can't be reactive. All kinds of people are going to get on her nerves. Christ, Darcy *will* go out of her way to push her buttons, and Pepper, if she finds out... Well lets just say it'll be a bad day for everyone. But, and I can't stress this enough, I cannot protect any of you if Loki runs a rampage. If she does anything horrible, eventually, to get rid of her, someone's going to sacrifice an enormous number of innocent people. Humans don't always weight their options in a logical way, and we *will* shoot our own foot off to spite someone."

"I understand Lord," he bows. "But I must also be honest with you. While Mother does take my council more oft than not, she can sometimes become... unreachable."

"That isn't my problem Jor-"

"It should not be," the Serpent interrupts, "but I'm afraid it is. You and Mother are bound by your agreement, and both our realms will not take kindly to your harbouring. Mother asked for Asylum, and you granted it. And while the word does carry a suggestion of how she must conduct herself, it means you must protect her, or forfeit your very breath."

Burning annoyance begins to claw at Antonia's temples, around her arc reactor. Straight down her spine. "You mean if she does something stupid, I have to physically shield her?"

"Or if the eyes of Asgard were to find her, you must at least make an effort. And further, your own conscious will judge you."

Fuck, damn, shit, christ, fuck. Toni knew she shouldn't have trusted that tricky little snot even the tiniest iota. Loki shows up, dressed in boobs, and Antonia Stark just hands her a deal to die for. Literally!

"You have shown yourself to be a woman of honourable character-"

The Inventor stares hate filled daggers at the Snake.

"And of considerable generosity," Jörmungandr continues. "So I will tell you this Lord Antonia. The boundaries of the location of Mother's Asylum, is what you believed them to be when you accepted each other's terms. And as the location falls under your guardianship, she must behave as you would expect any guest to-"

Toni brightens considerably.

"Or how you would conduct yourself."

Her glee falls. "Great." Her smile returns as her brain works through all the implications. "Does that mean she'd be compelled to do what I would, given specific situations?"

"Not precisely-"

"But if I thought I had a duty to protect someone, and that I'd be just as responsible if they died if I did nothing, and if I expect that of everyone 'within my asylum' who had the ability to intervene, Loki would be bound by that?"

Jörmungandr hesitates, concern that he may have just betrayed his Mother rising. "Would you..." he pauses once more, searching for words to direct the discussion to safer grounds. They do not come. "Retaliate?"

"Damn right. They'd all be out on their asses if I thought they'd screwed up."

"And I suppose you would punish yourself..."

"Absolutely, do it all the time."

Resigned, the Serpent sighs. "Then Mother would be expected to do the same."

Toni begins to laugh. It's a small chuckle at first, but soon it turns into a full blown cackle. "She doesn't know this, does she?"

"Mother assumes that all beings regard themselves first and foremost, and would expect that you would forgive yourself any transgression."

"Thank the great flying spaghetti monster for crushing self-condemnation." She leans almost happily on the counter. "And here I thought I'd gotten screwed over." Then straightens in surprise and excitement. "How should I tell her she's an Avenger??"

Jörmungandr hisses out his disgruntled frustration. Then slowly, taps his reply. "Very far from my presence."

"Come on Jormie," Antonia giggles, "you should celebrate. Your momma's a Super Hero now."

"Mother will be most displeased with me..."

"Remember when I said I didn't hate you. Well snake-boy, -man, I love'ya now. Kinda like a bromance. I'm getting such a good deal here, gonna learn the science behind magic, got a super powerful, super reluctant defender of the planet. Oww! Think she'd be willing to disguise herself as Captain Planet?"

"Very likely not."

"Oh well," Toni shrugs, "So much for fantasies."


	11. Gods in the Details

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toni and Loki are in bad moods, but something comes by to cheer them up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Note: I just wanted to say, without giving anything away outright, that this chapter contains some very huge hints.
> 
> Explicit warning: This chapter contains very mild sex, more like a heavy make out session, between two physically female people. I say "physically female" because Loki is Loki, and can't really be tired down to either or. Snotra and Toni, are most definitely girls though.

DeeDee. Her not-hers little DeeDee. The little genius who banished Toni from even thinking her name, let alone speaking it. The now woman who'd suddenly screamed at her one day, told her that she wasn't going to be Toni's protegee, that she'd never let the Inventor turn her into a little Stark, and that if she was ever given so much as a hint of controlling interest in Stark Industries, she'd tear it apart and auction off the bits to the lowest bidder.

Antonia'd said as much to her father once, even meant it once, but, somewhere, in some unshattered remnant of her heart, she'd hoped Dee would take the Inventor's place, hoped that Pepper, or someone hand chosen by the Redhead, would captain the SI ship, while Dee let her genius blossom in some wonderful way. Instead, Toni has to settle for the kid never going hungry, for her always having a place to live, and things to do, but never having the power she truly deserves, never inventing with the kind of financial abandon she really needs.

It's Toni's fault though. Loki's kids love her, want to be around her, even when every single other asgardian wants them dead *because* they are her kids, listens to her advice, and are loyal to her. Antonia gave her girl away; then, when it was too hard for her to completely detach, festered in the kid's life, and never let her completely bond with the spineless blood sucker Toni'd left her with. Loki's seen as a horrible lying monster, a deviant sociopath who admits herself, that she shouldn't be trusted. Antonia's a social icon, a role model, an Avenger. Yet, to Loki's kids, the Trickster's their loving mother. To Toni, DeeDee sees her as everyone sees Loki.

"James, how're your kids?"

Her driver looks up into the rear-view. "They're fine Ms Stark. Really appreciative of you sending them to uni, especially Clair, she had her heart set on Cambridge."

"Jamie, I didn't ask so you could praise me, I asked because I want to know."

"Yes ma'am." He looks back to the road, his face somewhat fallen. "Clair's having some trouble, but she's getting by. She's got a tutor, and she's helping her out. JJ's doing spectacularly, you'll have a world class engineer when he graduates."

"Junior can go wherever he likes," Toni dismisses, "he doesn't owe me anything."

"He'd disagree ma'am. He would've never gotten in if it hadn't been for you. Clair was hopeful, even had a shot, but we'd never been able to afford it without you Ms Stark."

"James... Not looking for praise, I don't have kids, I'm looking for some vicarious parenting."

The man laughs and preens a little; then launches into an epic of all his kids accomplishments. Antonia listens, but also lets her mind drift at the same time. His pride, his concern, his, everything... it just proves to the Inventor that she doesn't have what it takes to be a mother, that she was never a mother in the first place. All she was, was an egg donor, an incubator. Dee did, and does, everything herself, just like JARVIS, if J was her child. No, neither's hers, and they're better off for it. But why the hell is she even thinking about this stuff anyways, she's happily managed several years without letting herself think about it.

"Ms Lewis gave JJ some great advice ma'am," James interrupts.

Toni inwardly cringes at the prospect. "Oh yeah?"

"Sure. JJ just loves the time her slurries save."

"Slurries..."

"They're like food smoothies. Ms Lewis said they made her a thousand times more productive, and my JJ swears by them. If my children end up half as successful as her... well ma'am, I couldn't begin to thank you enough."

"Not looking for praise, besides, Pepper oversees the scholarship, I just point sometimes." Toni returns to absentmindedly staring out the window. "Hopefully he's not as much of a shit disturber as Darcy was."

"He gets into some trouble," James shrugs, "but thank god it's nothing too serious."

"Darcy dismantled the particle accelerator, left a note that said 'just borrowing it to take over the world, signed Doctor Evil'; then reassembled it in Caltech's underground."

"That was Darcy!?"

Toni looks at the man dead eyed. "Who else would pull a stunt like that."

"Christ ma'am, that was the first legend JJ told his mum and I about. Is it true you made everyone believe the computer gained sentience and was in constant pain?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Antonia sees a gun. She spins around for a closer look, and sees four more, and five assholes holding them, pointing them at a bunch of innocent people. Her heart rate climbs, her palms begin to tingle. A goddamn bank robbery. Iron Man is not supposed to stop robberies, she's supposed to end terrorists... and aliens... and whatever. Day to day crimes are work for cops, not a super hero. And not Iron Man without her Iron... Or without her man... bot... whatever. But damn it, she can't let it go, wont let it go.

"Stop the car," she orders.

"Ma'am?"

"I said stop James, now."

"Yes Ms Stark."

As the driver pulls over, Toni flings herself back into the seat, and hangs her head, already prepared for the answer she knows JARVIS is about to give. "J, when's the soonest you can get a suit here."

"The Mark IX is the only serviceable Iron Suit at the moment, and it's autonomous capabilities are quite limited."

She sighs, nothing's ever simple. "Have someone run it over J."

"Of course ma'am."

A kind of sadness springs up behind Toni's chest and eyes. She isn't afraid, or anxious, or anything really. She doesn't even think she's gonna die today. What's bothering her, is that someday this drive *will* get her killed, or that she wont be able to save someone. Would that someone be a stranger? Pepper? Darcy? Rhodey? At what point in her fucked up life, did the costs stop mattering? At what point did the loss of one life, equal everything?

The answers aren't important, they're basically rhetorical. She can't stop herself from being the Iron Man she created, any more than she can stop herself from being the woman she is. She just surrenders to the compulsion, rips off her shirt and bra, and yanks down the back seat.

"Ma'am?" James asks confused, and more than a little concerned. "Is this something I should phone Ms Potts about?"

"Hell no," Toni bursts as she pulls a large aluminium case out of the trunk. "The last thing I need is Pep up my ass."

"Then... I don't understand ma'am."

Largely, she ignores the man, pulls the mobile inductor over her head, settles it over her reactor; then attaches the far too thin breast plate over her chest. "Just a little take out James."

Antonia opens the door as the Mini Suit begins to power, and throws the case onto the ground while she slips out. By the time she steps into the boots, more like ballet shoes, in the case, the torso begins expanding down her arms and legs. She bends over, almost doubled, and slips her hands into the gauntlets... fucking child’s mittens really.

Geezus, she needs to stop thinking about it, needs to stop analyzing how far away a gunshot has to be for the paper thin backup suit to stop it, or how underpowered the repulsors are. She needs to walk in there, all pomp and bluster, and *be* Iron Man. Her reputation and attitude will do most of the work. And besides, fuck these guys. Who the hell pulls a bank robbery three weeks after the world almost ends. That's it, she needs to get pissed off, angry. These guys are creeps, and Toni Stark is a hero.

The bravado and rage fill her core, warm her every muscle, and she's well on her way to donning her full hero persona when the repulsors test fire, lifting her a foot into the air.

"Uh... Ms Potts," Toni hears James say from behind, "we've got a situation red here. No ma'am, she's wearing something from the trunk."

Great, now she's going to be lectured, something else to be pissed off at these losers for. She blows the double doors open, not giving a god damn about unnecessary damage, and secretly hopes these dicks will take a shot at her so she has an excuse to throw them into next week.

"Looking to make a withdrawal gentlemen?" It isn't Toni's best one liner, but it isn't her worst either.

"Shit," one of the bigger jerks curses as he grabs and swings a hostage in front of himself.

"Bud, I'm so not in the mood, I just got out of the hospital from saving your sorry asses."

"Than you'll be cool," the shortest of the five says, sticking a gun into the woman's side that he's using as a shield.

"Seriously?" Toni pantomimes. "The only way anything's cool from this point on, is if you dickheads drop your weapons, and give up. Otherwise, I have to... subdue you, or whatever I'm supposed to call it. And, if you hurt anyone, I'll make you suffer for it."

"No one has to get hurt Stark," Shortie continues, "we can all just walk away."

"Not going to happen."

"Would you rather we kill a hostage!?"

"Not really, but, you see, this is the problem. For you to be sure no one follows you to scoop you up, you're going to have to take some of them to continue to use as shields, because your'all gutless cowards, but I can't let you do that, because if I do, you might hurt them, or try to ransom them, or some other dumb ass thing. So here's the deal. Guns down, hands up, and you say, 'I surrender', and you don't die."

"I surrender," one of the guys immediately replies.

"Gerry you worthless sack of shit," Shortie barks while he backs up a little.

"Good choice man," Toni head bobs, "I'll make sure one of my lawyers helps you out."

"Really?" A second asks.

"My word buddy. You ditch Napoleon there, and I'll make sure you get to have some kinda life when the dust settles."

"Fuck you Stark!" Shortie points his gun at the Inventor.

"Look," Toni continues as the second man lays down on the floor. "I know what the rest of you are thinking. Why couldn't we have pulled this job later, or earlier, or something. It was just supposed to be a quick in and out, it wasn't supposed to get complex. Well, it's complex, and I'm here, so, cut your losses, or resign yourself to whatever happens."

"Fuck you," the Short Guy shouts, backing up a little further as a third man lays down, "I'm not going back in."

The Inventor shakes her head. "I'd really rather you didn't make me end your life."

He fires off a stream of bullets at her, mostly missing as his shots go high, but one tears threw the edge of the armour's bicep, gouging a path off Toni's skin. She doesn't flinch, doesn't show the smallest sign that this suit isn't her best.

"Are you done?" She takes a step toward him as the fourth guy lays down.

"Fuck you, you fucking bitch!" Shortie screams. "I'm not afraid of you! I'm not going back!"

"I carried a nuclear missile into a wormhole, smashed it into a giant alien spaceship, got mushroom clouded back to earth... and survived. So ask yourself buddy, are you fearless, or stupid?"

JARVIS pulls up a small HUD image of most of the hostages crawling away to safety, the jerk-off bad guys mixed in with them, but the cops are already outside, and she's fairly comfortable with the fact that they wont get far.

"Fuck you, fuck you," Shortie's almost crying, and definitely frantic.

It's Toni's choice, she can push him, make him freak out, give herself a reason to kill him. Or she can try to deescalate, try to calm him down. Get everyone out alive, even the bad guys. But she really doesn't want to do that. Damn it, Solo shot first, you can be a good guy and *not* value every fucking life equally.

Toni puts her hands up. "Alright, we can relax."

"I want a helicopter."

"This isn't Quick Change, you're not walking out of here a free man."

"If you don't get me one, I'll blow her fucking head off, and you'll've made me do it!" His back's against the wall now, his gun bruising the woman's temple.

"I tried," Toni shrugs; then closes her left eye.

The seeker pierces the man's skull without a sound, without so much as a flinch from any of the guy's muscles. His lifeless body hits the floor as Antonia walks out the door, almost strolling, like the whole event was nothing more than a meeting with a client. Outside, some cops are shoving the bad guys into squad cars, others, have their pistols trained on her, and some, stand with dorky admirational grins. It's funny how the authorities never know exactly how to deal with her. Not that she cares. This little side quest of a mission, ended in a way that doesn't give her the slightest hint of guilt.

She commands the suit to count the number of people she's saved... maybe saved. There's no guarantee that any of them would've died had she not been there, but they might have, so this is a win in her book, and eighteen more people on her 'not responsible for letting die' list.

Toni spots one of the cops jogging straight for her. They probably want to question her, eat up her time, but she hasn't even checked on Loki's possible antics yet. Rogers would stay behind, smooth things over, even sit in jail while they discussed what exactly to do. Romanova would split, let a clean up crew handle things.

"J?" She never needs to ask if he's around, but she always does, and for some unfathomable reason, like giving him an out to ignore her.

"Yes Ms Stark?" But he never does, and, she suspects, never will.

"Give Hill a call please? Tell her the situation, and that I didn't want to stick around?"

"Of course ma'am."

She goes into a half squat, mostly for effect, takes off with a slight spin, and moves in a lazy arch as she lifts above the buildings. It strikes her how beautiful a day it is. The sky's mostly clear, the temperature slightly cool, and her chest doesn't hurt at all. Even the ripped up skin on her shoulder barely bothers her. Life's good, and flying for the first time in weeks, *feels* good. Now all she needs is a band aid and a new shirt for when she lands.

 

_A flying auburn waterfall preceded Loki as she frolicked through her wood, as she chased her beloved Antonia. Mother had released them from their studies some time ago, to which, the playful Goddess of Prudence took as permission to tease the Trickster unmerciful. At first, her tortures were civil, pleasant, and a welcomed distraction to the normally over vigilant Loki. Soon however, the gentle caresses turned, inflaming, and the barely whispered admirations, became alluring. The Dark Goddess took chase first, but when she held Antonia in her grasp, she became prey._

_Back and forth they traded roles, until that is, they reached the wood. Upon entering, the Clever Goddess took to a deliberate pace, growing the distance between Loki and her desire. The Trickster had called out several times, beseeching the auburn stream to slow._

_"What fun is it to chase my dear," she had asked, her breath slightly strained, "if one is never granted her prize."_

_"Careful Loki," her Clever Goddess had answered, "you mistake our game."_

_"I assure you my Love, I do not."_

_Then the Dark Goddess did what came best to her. She cheated. Shifting into dark flame, her steady dash became a lightening strike, closing the gap and bringing her prey within reach. But at the moment of her triumph, Antonia form turned to mist. Loki immediately came to a stop, and looked about, searching for any seidr, or sign. But there was none._

_A laugh echoed in the trees as an impact brought the Trickster to the ground, and lips to her mouth. Her hands were above her head before she could fully take in her predicament. And nimble fingers strained the latches of her shirt to opening, before she could coax her lover's tongue to a more vigorous dual._

_"You mistook yourself for hunter Loki," Antonia panted between kisses, "and I for prey."_

_"Yes," Loki exclaimed and replied, when the Clever Goddess' lips descended to her throat. "I take you for less capable..." A moment of silence befell her lips as the other Goddess took a breast into hand. "Far too often," she finished in a moan filled blurt._

_"Continue to do so my Trickster," Antonia smiled up into her lover's eyes with delight, "it pleases me." Then replaced her harassing fingers with a talented mouth and tongue._

_Loki clutched her lover tighter to her body, trying to invite the Goddess' pressure to her sex. But Antonia would not relent, would not wield the pleasure Loki so desired._

_"I want you Trickster," the Clever Goddess whispered harshly, "I want your nectar on my tongue, your essence painted across my lips, your scent filling my lungs." Her panting grew as her mouth descended, as she dragged Loki's clothing from her shoulders. "Tell me you are mine Loki, tell me I may play with you as I please."_

_The Dark Goddess smirked. "Not anyway you please my dear. I do have dignity." At Antonia’s suddenly retreating body, Loki lunged to take her back into grasp. "Anything you wish my darling," she amended, "I will deny you nothing of myself. Please, I need you."_

_"Do you need my mouth Loki dear?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Say it Trickster."_

_Loki swallowed, Antonia's hands as well as her clothing bunched at her waist. "I need your mouth my love."_

_"And?" She inched the wrappings of her gift a little lower._

_"Your hands."_

_"Nothing else my Trickster? Nothing more of me but my mouth and hands?"_

_Loki was becoming undone, her need creeping along the creases of her thighs. A hand anchored Antonia close, yet agonizingly distant, but so to did her fingers dig into the earth, seeking stability from the unmoving mass._

_"Tell me Trickster, tell me all that you wish of me. Tell me of your raging need, of your quiet desires. Tell me Loki. Tell me of your love for me."_

_"I love you Antonia," the Dark Goddess called into the night air, any semblance of the dignity she claimed, vanished. Her hips heaved into nothing, her mouth sought soft lips which did not present themselves. All her womanly glory burned, all her wantonness on raw display. "I love you, I would do anything for you. I would die, I would kill, I would cry for you. I need your voice to fill my silence, your wisdom to shield my sanity. I need your scent upon my hands, your breath upon my neck. I need you my Antonia, I need you more than breath, more than magic. Please my goddess! Please take me!"_

_Loki found her clothing tossed carelessly aside, her lover's auburn hair swimmingly close to her womanhood, her hands wrapped possessively about her hips, her shoulders saddling and lifting her thighs, her breath... her breath..._

 

"Ms Leofric?"

Murder! Loki wishes murder upon this worthless mortal, destruction upon the entire realm. She will take his empty head, squeeze it like an over ripe melon.

"The museum's only about a five minute walk away, but the car's going to be stuck here in traffic for the next twenty minutes at least."

Death, chaos, suffering. A swirling pool of despair. She will visit agony onto this man's family, burn their possessions, feed their animal companions to Jörmungandr.

Loki relents her anger, and forces prospective upon herself. It was only a dream, or rather, a memory invaded by an unwelcome form. Snotra had been her adolescent lover, but now, that cherished instance is forever sullied.

"I will walk Mr Doyle," the God supplies, but hesitates before departing. "I ask however, if I slept these unsquanderable minutes, what difference would have been had?"

"Pardon me ma'am?" the man asks, bewildered.

"Awake me from pleasantness ever again, and you will bleed."

"Ms Leofric," JARVIS interrupts from the car's speakers. "Stark Industries does not permit employees to threaten one another."

Loki's demeanour returns to the effervescent one of Lori. "I'm so sorry Mr Doyle! I can be a beast when I first wake up, can't I!?"

"Yeah, sure," the man presses his back harder against the door. "Don't think nothin on it ma'am."

The God escapes her confines, setting off in the direction she knows her destination to be. But the eyes of Antonia's ever watchful construct follow her, bore into her from every direction. She slows as the identity of another set of eyes comes to her.

"Jörmungandr is watching as well JARVIS?"

"He is ma'am," his voice now from the phone in her breast pocket.

"I see." Loki continues at a leisured pace. "Am I to assume no privacy for myself?"

"Lord Jörmungandr wishes me to inform you, that if you continue to show disregard to our guests, privacy will not be among your greatest concerns."

"A threat my son?"

"Yes mother. I will hold you within this fortress myself if I must."

"I see," the God nods to nothing in particular; then pointedly ignores the two petulant children.

Contrary to the belief of her former countrymen, as well as her kin it seems, Loki is not an angry being. Easily irritated, sometimes loving of violence, perhaps quick to anger, but not angry for the sake of it. But, the seidr soaked dream had awoken something, something so strong, that it now seeps into her own imaginings.

Sigyn had been Loki's wife, her stanchest defender, and her most comfortable love. Snotra, had been demanding, easy to offend, and far more willing to attack the God if she provoked her. But their affair had also been like nothing Loki had ever felt before. By her very nature, the Goddess of Prudence was insightful and intelligent, often correct and careful, but also strongly self-recriminating. A single misstep, a single assumption made in the absence of fact, and her dear Goddess would condemn her every thought to that of an oaf.

Their relationship had been complicated, and painful at times. They fought often, held the most bitter of resentments, but when their moments aligned, their hearts soared. They were very rarely idle together, unlike with Sigyn who cherished the still quiet. They would study and write and ponder, or make love. Snotra understood Loki, and actively despised many of her faults. So unlike Sigyn, who accepted without judgement, and cared without needing payment. Snotra withheld if not satisfied, and lashed out if wronged. Loki truly believes that she does not love one more than the other, but the loss of Sigyn is only devastating, while the abandonment from Snotra, left her changed for all time.

So why now does thoughts of Antonia creep into those most sacred of hurts. Loki's dreams are filled with Sigyn and their sex with regularity, and by all regards, the Mortal has appetites similar to the Light Goddess'. So why does her soul seek to paint Antonia's face over Snotra's then, why does it insist on opening a wound that throbs silently to this day. Can it be the Mortal's own mind? Her need to constantly seek knowledge?

Loki does not care, she only wants the encroachment to end. She does not desire a replacement for Snotra, she desires the pain, the quiet agony. If by some act of the Norns, Snotra were to appear in the God's life once again, she would turn from her former lover, she would not wish a reunion under any circumstance. She can never forgive the pain, and if Loki's secret depth wishes to place the Mortal in the same space as Snotra, it is then destining her to kill Antonia as vengeance.

The world is so dimmed by her anger and hurt, that Loki nearly misses some gruffly whispered words of conspiracy.

"I think she's out cold."

"Heh, she looks dead. Ever fuck a half dead chick before?"

The God looks down the narrow alleyway flanked at either side by garbage. At the end, beside a dumpster overflowing with waste, a woman lay, as dead to the world as the two miscreants say. The vile men themselves appear far better off, socially, then the woman. They are dressed in clean clothing of a style similar to Darcy's, which contrasts deeply to the torn, dirty, and colourless near rags hanging from the woman's unmoving form.

Loki is already angered, so rage takes its place at the prospect of these two taking what the woman is unable to give. Too often does such things transpire, both in Asgard and in Midgard, and too often does the Dark God read such accounts by the heralds of this realm. Whole television programs are devoted to these stories, and it disgusts Loki to her core.

Before she can think, the Dark God walks toward the scene, radiating cold anger, before she can reconsider, she shifts into her war regalia, and before they can react, she strikes the closest waste of life with her staff.

"Who the fuck are you," the other asks, half in anger, half in fear.

"A god."

"Fuck you bitch," the man she'd struck bellows as he moves to punch.

Loki lets the blow fall as it glances across her cheek. It feels less than a slap, at least to a god like her. In retaliation for his feeble attempt, she snaps her staff into his useless prick. His fellow strikes her in the head with a metal tube in the same moment, but Loki does not flinch.

"As I said mortal, a God."

Without taking her eyes off the one still standing, she clacks the fallen in the head to further subdue him, and, to abate his future escape. Then, an idea comes to her.

The sorry excuse for a man turns and runs, but Loki does not immediately pursue. Instead, she picks a stray cat up from beside the dumpster, holds it not unkindly against herself, and walks in the Filth's direction. An instant later, she slips into shadow realm and streaks as black flame into his path. He stops just as suddenly, backing away.

"Please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me."

Loki smiles rather pleasantly. "A request I simply cannot grant."

"Please man."

"I have, you see, been most idle for too long, and I must give you appropriate thanks."

"Thanks?" He looks back quickly, but only for the briefest of moments. "You, you want to thank me?"

"Yes," Loki's eyes flash manic for a moment, "for the excuse."

The God's relentless slow steps spur the man's own on quicker. "Excuse?" He is in near tears.

"For some mischief." She carefully puts the cat down. "Pleasant for me, not so for you."

He turns to make another run for it, but Loki strikes his leg, sending him into a heap onto the ground. A fist to his skull unfocuses his movements further as she lowers herself to press her weight to his back. Then, with a quick jerk, she rips his trousers completely off. This, the God assumes, must cause him a great deal of fear, because he begins to scream in a most pleasing way to Loki's ears.

"Don't cut my dick off man, don't cut my dick off!"

"Worry not, I have no intention of doing such to you. But the idea has merit for your vile friend."

"He's not my friend! I don't even know him!"

"Yet you both conspired to take that woman's virtue. Her belongings I could forgive, even encourage, but her womanhood is her's alone to give." Loki motions to the cat, "come little beast."

"What are you doing! Don't put anything in my ass!"

"Oh, not I."

He looks back to see that the stray the God brought with her, is now the size of a lion, making him scream and beg even louder.

Loki leans toward the animal, cupping his ear with a gentle hand. "It has been some time has it not? And you find this thing... most alluring do you not?" She then paralyses the man's arms and legs, stands, and begins casually walking back to the dumpster. "Don't let me keep you little beast."

A small smile, and wild glee filled eyes, bloom on Loki's face as the Filth frantically calls for help, his bellows of agony and fear echoing off the walls as she approaches the now struggling Waste. Again, she places her full weight down upon the disgusting Midgard. His fist connects with her face, and when that does nothing, he strikes again and again. But she does little to stop the attack, because she does feel a small measure of pity to him, and for what she is about to do.

"Fuck you! Do you know who I am?"

"A being of very little consequence to me."

Loki reaches down and simply, wipes his manhood off into her hand.

"And now, a eunuch." She smiles slily as she lifts his prick into view.

The man back crawls away as soon as the God allows him; then pulls open his pants to check. He screams in abject fear, and shoves his pants down his hips, showing off his now smooth flesh. "What did you do to me you psychotic bitch!"

Her grin grows exponentially, several television programs combine in her mind. "I deboned you."

Cooking shows were a favoured pastime of Loki's before falling into Antonia's graces. But how does one prepare cock of rot, she wonders. It is no matter, she simply tosses it in with the rest of the garbage. A feast for the rats.

The God's attention turns to the Woman, still unmoving despite the commotion. Loki is mildly concerned that she might already be in Death's embrace, but a quick dousing of magic tells her the Girl is still alive, somewhat injured, and swimming with intoxicants. Most concerning to the God however, is the abundant scars, many of which speaking to the woman's lack of escape on prior occasions such as this one.

It enrages Loki's sensibilities, and awakes too many unpleasant memories. She heals the Girl with gentle warm caresses, discards the harden flesh and chemicals to the side, and clears her mind with a cooling exhale from pursed lips. It takes only a moment for the Midgardian to awake.

"Who are you..."

Loki draws the Girl's wandering eyes back to her. "I am... a god." She had almost spoken her name.

"What, what did you do to me?"

"I healed you mortal. Tended your old wounds, and punished your attackers."

The God is not sure what she expected, but a sudden burst of tears is not it.

"Why did you save me," the Girl's voice cracks.

"Let us call it, a god's whim."

"But why, you should have left me here with the rest of the trash."

Something begins to stir in the centre of Loki's body, something warm and bright, something so powerful it almost hurts.

"Trash, you are not." The God gestures to the man laying half naked and helpless on the ground, the cat still thrusting atop him.

The Girl looks to the direction the other man fled once she takes her fill of the first scene. "You did that for me?"

"Why would I not, it was no bother to me, and," Loki gives a genuine smile, "I enjoyed it." Then she stands to walk away.

"Wait!"

The fun is over, and it is time for Loki to return to the drudgery of her new chosen life... to her boredom... and to Antonia's intrusion into her mind.

"Do I prey to you? Do I give you offerings?"

The God stops in her tracks, the feeling in her chest intensifying. "Why would you do such a foolish thing Mortal, a god hears not your begs, nor would one respond if they did."

"But, I don't want anything."

"No?"

"You're beautiful, and you saved me." The Girl etches the God's face into her mind's eye. "And... I want to say your name."

Something breaks within the God, some damn holding back a hidden mass of delight. "I am Loki."

"Loki..."

The whisper sets her nerves on fire. Is this how Thor felt, is this what Mother tried to explain about worship?

"The Norse god? Like Thor?"

Loki's heart sinks, but she turns slightly at the tug to her cape, to the girl crawling over refuse to get closer. She notices the Mortal's clear green eyes staring in wonder up at her.

"But you're a girl... a woman. L- Loki's a man."

"I am how I wish to be. Nothing less."

"Loki the deceitful, the shapeshifter."

The God turns more fully.

"My parents told me the stories." The Girl's head bows. "Their gone now. Are they with Hel?"

"You would not wish them to be in Valhalla?"

"No. It sounds as boring as heaven. That's why I came here, I want to be in the ground, not in a box or burned, or floating in an imaginary castle in the sky."

"You may be mad Mortal. Cherish that." Loki turns to continue on.

"I'm not insane," the Girl stands to follow. "My sister wouldn't leave me. She's only twelve, she keeps running away from homes to find me. I thought... I thought if I was gone, she'd finally stay with someone better."

The God continues to walk, wilfully callous to the young Woman's plight.

"Loki?"

Again, her whispered name brings a wondrous pain to her middle.

"Thank you."

The words are not what Loki had expected. A plea would have been her wager, but gratitude?

"For showing me you're real."

"As real as a wart upon one's genitals."

The Girl's laugh shocks the God. Again she turns.

"It was funny," the Girl shrugs. "Can I see you again? Just see you? I promise I wont ask for anything. It feels good to be near you."

It comes over Loki in a rush, the desire to take hold of the Mortal's Jaw. Her grasp is rough, her movements not kind, but the Girl shows no sign of fear. "You wish to do my bidding Mortal?"

"Yes... Please..."

The earnestness nearly brings the God to her knees. "Lie." She burns the edict into the Girls eyes with her own. "Lie to be believed, and cover your steps with mayhem."

The Girl smiles despite the vice like grip on her cheeks. "Okay. That'll make you happy?"

Loki takes a step back, overwhelmed beyond reason. "No mortal, that will make *you* happy."

The God then shifts into black flame and shoots into the air, but does not go far. Her chest feels filled to explode, and her skin tingles beyond reason. Her usual grace abandons her as she crashes to a pebble filled roof. She crawls to the edge to see the Girl darting across traffic, forcing the vehicles to stop and sound their horns. She watches as the Girl strolls into a shop, only to walk out a moment later with a muffin and a handful of change. The Mortal hops down the shop's stairs while casually throwing the coins into the street; then skips out of sight. It is less than a breath before more sounds of honking fill the air.

"Loki? What the hell are you doing?"

The moment of shear joy and fulfilment brings the God to Antonia's lips, cups the mostly infuriating Mortal's cheeks carefully as she shares her delight, deepens the kiss as she encounters no resistance, and fills her senses with the second hand essence of coffee.

Toni, for her part, just lets it happen, and doesn't ask questions.

**Author's Note:**

> So, again, I disappoint you, and I'm sorry. No JARVIS chapter. But, in my defence, it didn't feel right. Plus, this is more Loki and Toni's story anyways. I really hope to be able to start updating a little more regularly, but, life and illness get in the way.
> 
> I don't want to start promising things in upcoming chapters, because, really, I have a terrible track record for that kinda thing. But! Toni and Loki will go out on a date soon, and it will be full of typical Loki antics.
> 
> As always, I'd like to thank everyone for reading and stuff, without all of you, there really is no me. I love you all.


End file.
